ALL I KNOW OF LOVE
by GerrysJackie
Summary: Both had sworn off marriage, but neither could control the events that forced them together. Although she has sworn to loathe him, she finds her heart will not obey. EC, set in Persia and France.
1. Chapter 1

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

CHAPTER 1 – **Foundations: Past and Present**

_Genes Region, Town of Tretradia, France, 1871_

He scanned the papers in front of him with scrutiny, seeking the flaw his friend wanted him so desperately to find. He had already done this several times, but Gustav Delancy was not a man who gave up easily.

"Gustav, there is no more that I can do for you; the Duke demands this and it will be done."

Gustav was beginning to see the hopelessness that was slowly descending on him from a great distance. Patrick Connelly had been his solicitor for fifteen years, and he had never led him astray; he knew this time was no different.

"When I read the demand, I thought it was madness. Why would he do this…I merely asked for a little help in getting my shipping business back on the right track before I lost my entire income?" Gustav was bewildered and aggravated by the lack of control he had over the situation.

Connelly was slightly baffled himself. This was an unusual request for a commoner to receive from the Duke…there had be to extenuating circumstances.

"We are simple people, Patrick…we are not nobility…this is absurd."

"You're in desperate need of his help and support, Gustav; this marriage will ensure that." Patrick reminded him. "The Laroque Family, although known in the past for its cruelty and dark practices, is one of the most prestigious and wealthy noble families in Eastern Europe."

"Who is this man, Connelly…the one she is to wed?"

"Erik Rameau Laroque, Marquis of Merlot; he has taken the family name and rebuilt it from the bottom up – after his father's philandering ways and drunken stupors practically ran it into the ground. Little is known about the man himself, but his physical appearance and strength, as well as his genius mind are legendary." Patrick looked at his employer and tried to ease the worry on his forehead, "He is known to be fair with his punishment….and his people seem to respect him."

Nothing was going to ease Gustav at this point, he was going to lose his daughter to this man; at the whim of the duke, a man he respected and thought to be fair in his judgment.

Gustav narrowed his gaze at the man he had called his best friend for many years, "And I am supposed to just hand my daughter over to him and believe that he is going to love and cherish her?"

Patrick sighed; he had hoped to avoid this whole, dreadful mess, but he knew he could not, "I don't think love and cherish are required, but you really have no choice in the matter, Gustav…you know that."

The older man clenched his fists and began to pace the floor. The only things he knew of the Laroque family were rumors and stories drenched in the legends of the past.

As the patriarch of the Delancy family grieved over the plight of his eldest daughter, Patrick thought about how this contract affected him. He had thought to court Christine on his own at one time; even though she was a strong-willed, independent woman with a sharp mind and she could match any man with her intelligence.

He had finally decided that he needed a docile, easily managed woman – not an independent, dominant woman like Christine Delancy. He knew of no man that wanted a woman as strong of mind and sharp of wit as she was.

There was nothing stunning about Christine; she had long, black tresses that almost seemed blue in the sunlight and her eyes were a deep shade of blue, almost appearing black; just the opposite of her hair. Her beauty was not the kind of beauty that stopped a man in his tracks, but she had a kind, gentle beauty; and few men ever cared to notice it.

Her eyes were too big for her face and she was rather buxom and full-hipped. Her features weren't delicate and refined, as was the customary look of the modern, beautiful woman; and her form was not dainty. However, she had creamy, ivory skin – untouched by the suns rays and completely without blemish; and a perfectly straight, perky nose. She was unusually tall for a woman, at five feet, eight inches, and she was the apple of her father's eye.

The few suitors she had entertained barely made it past a couple of months. Men wanted a soft, submissive, quiet woman with only womanly interests; Christine did not fit that profile by any means.

Gustav had made her the son he never had; she had a mind for numbers and formulas and she understood statistical problems and strategic equations. She kept the books for him at the shop, keeping track of all the purchases and orders; making sure everything was where it belonged when it needed to be there, and handling the customers.

What would he do without her?

"There has to be something I can do…I can offer myself as a slave to him." Gustav growled, forcing Patrick out of his thoughts.

"You know you can't do that, you have a family to consider…Teresa and your two youngest daughters don't deserve this, Gustav, you know that." Patrick knew Gustav was just thinking aloud, but he had to talk some reason into him.

"Think of Bethany and what has happened; she will need your help with Giorgia."

The tall, barrel-chested man before him could bare it no longer and sank into the confines of the soft, leather divan that rested in the far corner of the office. He buried his head in his hands and drew long, labored breathes, trying to keep from sobbing.

Patrick heard the deep despair coming from Gustav and wished there was more he could do; he had no idea why the Duke required this of him, he knew he needed the money to rebuild his estate after the war had completely depleted his funds, but he had not wanted it to be at the cost of his daughter.

He must surrender the one to save the other. No father should have to allow this to happen; and Teresa, it was killing her.

"Why must he resort to this…is he so overbearing and monstrous that he can't obtain a wife through normal means?" Gustav spat.

Patrick had no answers that would provide Gustav with the peace he required. Little was known about the mysterious man who had become the new Marquis of the Merlot Region some ten years ago.

"No one knows Gustav….he's shrouded in mystery and secrets." Patrick stated. "He seldom leaves the estate; and when he does, his whereabouts are not disclosed."

"And yet, I have no choice but to hand my oldest and most precious daughter over to him without question."

Gustav rammed his fist into the desk, feeling the wood give very little against his strength. Tears stung his eyes and he felt rage boiling in his veins.

That very morning he had held his wife as she mourned over the future of their eldest daughter. She was certain the mysterious Marquis was some sort of deviant sent to bring hell to earth.

Where had this man come from? Why was his past so secretive and his name whispered as though it held some unearthly power? Gustav was determined to meet this man and get some answers on his own.

ЖЖ

_Jenei Province, Merlot Region, France, 1861_

"Your grace, we have found him."

Duke Sergei Beauvais stood and acknowledged the man who had just entered his office. His eyes were inquisitive and speculative, as he was eager to hear what news this man had.

"You found him - where?"

Edmond Pierpont, personal aid to the Duke, bowed low and cleared his throat.

"In Persia, your grace…he is a prisoner there."

Sergei was hesitant to believe the news Edmond was offering him. Several times before they had thought they had found him, but the reports were false - and the house of Laroque remained decadent and foul.

"How can you be certain it's him?" The duke asked.

Edmond drew closer to his long-time master, "There is no mistaking the distinct family resemblance and the scars…" Edmond shuttered at the memory of the scars that claimed the right side of the man's face. "…I've never seen a man with such resilience and determination…he is what you have been looking for."

Duke Beauvais turned toward the window and clamped his hands together behind his back. He spoke to Edmond, but did not look at him,

"The current Marquis Laroque has all but sent the estate into poverty and his sanity has been brought into question…he has practically destroyed the name and shamed his family." Sergei turned abruptly and regarded Edmond with shrewd eyes, "Bring him to me…" The Duke instructed, giving Edmond all the necessary paperwork to release the prisoner from the confines of his Persian jail. "…immediately. The royal family of Persia does not want any issues with France; let alone, with Europe, they will release him as I have instructed." Sergei stated with a knowing smile.

Edmond bowed as he was dismissed.

Sergei turned back to the window; he was thankful they had found the heir to the Laroque name, and dearly hoped that bringing this man back from the dead would put the Laroque family back on the correct path.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

CHAPTER 2 – **On** t**he Edge of Sanity **

_Persia__, late 1861 _

Would he ever smell freedom again? The cold, dank walls of his prison cell echoed a resounding "NO", as he was thrown into them with brutal force.

The three palace guards spit on him and each gave one final blow to his ribcage before exiting the cell and locking the door behind them.

'How long have I been here…three, possibly four years?' He thought, his own voice driving the insanity away, once again. 'Why hasn't death come to claim me?'

He had certainly given her plenty of opportunity and plenty of ammunition. No one refused the gifts of the Sultana and then lived to enjoy life – they immediately faced death. Not only had he refused the barely pubescent, harem girls, but he had also refused the Sultana herself.

During the last fourteen years, Erik had earned the respect of those around him. His powerful, unyielding mind was far superior to any man within thousands of miles. He had physical strength and animal-like reflexes, which caused terror in the hearts of many, both men and women.

He had stumbled onto the shores of Persia at the age of ten after stowing away on a merchant ship. Captured and taken to the palace, he was entertainment for the royal family. He proved adept at music; whether composing or playing, his skills with a lasso and knives became legendary, and in the process of becoming an entertainment attraction, he became an embittered and proficient adversary.

He soon captured the eye of the young Sultana whose lust for him was almost as strong as her lust for blood. He had grown into a beautiful specimen, despite the deformity on his face. His body was strong, defined, and graceful; and she wanted to own him; in every way.

He was brilliant and gifted and the Sultana feared the respect he was developing among the palace guard. Giving a prisoner too much power was a dangerous move, and Erik was a dangerous man.

She thought she could control him with the lure of sex and the erotic world she lived in. He reacted to the "shows" as any other man, but he did not act on his urges. However, his reaction was all she needed to afflict him further.

She sent him harem girls as a gift, trying to persuade him to indulge in his male fantasies; but he refused the gifts and sent the girls back untouched. This made the Sultana angry and she began using the torture devices on the girls; the same devices that Erik had been ordered to design for political radicals and criminals.

She propositioned him herself, on many occasions, but the thought of sleeping with her sickened him; he knew she only desired him because he was a peculiarity – an oddity of nature – and he despised her for it. He had never been with a woman, and he was certain he never would be.

His refusal turned her lust to hate, and she sought ways to break his spirit. Nothing she had done so far, had achieved the desired effect. He was blissfully ignorant of the torture of the girls, until he witnessed it with his own eyes.

Unable to bear the burden of their deaths, he made a bargain with the Sultana - bring him no more girls, torture no more girls, and she could do as she willed with him.

Beaten profusely on a daily basis, the whip became a constant companion. She tested his body with drugs and torture; noting how his body and mind reacted to her sick perversions. She would then put his beaten and bleeding body on display as a deterrent to others.

Between beatings, whippings, drug induced comas, and public humiliation, Erik kept his body in shape. He used his keen intellect and knowledge of human anatomy to build his muscles and stay in top condition; hoping that someday he would be free.

Of course, he was good for other things, also. Two nights ago, she had demanded he entertain her with his music; the piano, violin and his voice – she had been moved to tears. Loathing her reaction to him, she ordered each of his fingers dislocated.

The pain had been excruciating, but Erik had refused to beg for mercy or show any weakness, and she had been furious. She watched as he was whipped and then she poured alcohol on his wounds until he passed out from the pain.

Just before sweet oblivion claimed him, she bent down to his face and looked him in the eye as she caressed his perfect cheek with her soft, blood-stained hand, "These are scars you'll not soon forget…never cross me again, my pet." She continued to caress his cheek and spoke again, in deadly, silken tones, "You're lucky I have need of your music and the joy I get from admiring and torturing your beautiful body, or you would likely be dead…" she placed a cold, heartless kiss upon his lips, "…never refuse me again…remember, you are still nothing but a slave."

Fighting the urge to regurgitate from the feel of her lips on his, he was hauled unceremoniously back to his cell and doused in putrid water. It was hours later before he was able to move and then the prison doctor came in and reset his fingers without regard to the extreme pain he was feeling. He treated the whip marks on his back and thighs before infection sat in, and then left without saying a word.

Today had started out no differently than any other day, drugs were administered and Erik was beaten, but before he could be escorted to the torture chamber, the chief of security for the palace, and Erik's one true friend, interrupted them and ordered him to be taken to the royal bath.

Kaveh tried to rouse the man to whom he owed his life, "Erik, you must gather your strength…you are a free man." Kaveh uttered while lifting Erik's head to give him some water.

Still under the influence of the strong elixir the Sultana had given him, Erik's eyes could not focus, and his mind was hazy. He tried to answer, but his tongue has swollen from the drugs and lack of water. Two large eunuchs lifted him to their shoulders and helped him to the bath.

The feel of the soothing water against his tortured skin and quiet music playing in the background lulled Erik to sleep as two harem girls bathed him under the watchful gaze of the eunuchs.

Erik would have been mortified had he known they were touching his body in any way, but he remained mercifully asleep and unaware of their gentle, kind touch and their admiring gaze.

Once he was clean, they wrapped him in a silk robe, had him delivered to the top-floor suite of the hotel, and left in the care of the two men who had obtained his freedom.

Kaveh accompanied Erik to the hotel and helped carry him into the suite, Edmond Pierpont and Walther Garnier visually examined him as he was carried into the room.

"He is seriously ill." Kaveh insisted. "He is in no shape to travel at this time."

Pierpont watched as they gently laid the imposing, injured man face down on the large, soft bed. The years of abuse were evident in the ashen color of his skin, the dark circles under his eyes, and the faded scars that covered many areas of his body; not to mention the fresh wounds that were puckered and irritated looking.

"He will get the proper care before we leave, it has already been arranged." Garnier stated, a sever sadness on his face.

Kaveh was not going to leave Erik's side. He owed Erik his life and that meant that he would follow him, anywhere; these men seemed concerned for Erik, and eager to serve him.

The doctor arrived within the hour; he was one of the best in modern medicine. He had studied in Switzerland and the Duke commissioned him to oversee Erik's health and welfare.

The examination took a couple of hours and when the doctor emerged from the room, his look was weary but hopeful.

"I have never seen such an inhumane case of abuse in all my years." He said. "His inner strength of character is tremendous and his will to live is the strongest I have ever seen."

Kaveh followed the doctor back into the area where Erik was resting. He had begun to fidget and murmur; and all that were present knew the worst was yet to come.

"There will be weeks of cravings, profuse sweating, general illness. He will demand to be given the drug and will probably become violent when it is not administered." The doctor instructed.

"This is through no fault of his; I want you to understand that." Kaveh stated. "She would have him tortured and then fill him with the drugs when he was unable to fight back."

They all nodded, showing their understanding of the situation. It was important to Kaveh that they know that Erik was an unwilling participant in the atrocities that were performed on him; he was not a drug addict by choice.

"I have a ship available for my personal use; compliments of the Sultana, she just does not know it yet. I am having the vessel prepared now and a room is being readied for Erik…I want to get him out of Persia tonight and his treatments can begin on the ship."

Kaveh knew he would never return to Persia, to do so would be certain death. He had defied the Sultana, commandeered a royal ship, and acquired a crew from his loyal men; he was now a criminal.

Edmond agreed, "We can take care of him there as well as anywhere and when we get to France, the Duke will see that he is properly cared for until he can assume his proper position. You are both under his protection."

"You may have to restrain him when the withdrawal symptoms become especially intense; which will occur within the next few hours." Dr. Zeigler stated.

All preparations were completed and the journey began. Kaveh did not look back as his country of birth disappeared into the horizen, his place was with Erik…no matter what.

ЖЖ

The sea was a worrisome mistress as the weeks progressed. The days and nights stretched on endlessly for Kaveh as he almost lost his best friend on several occasions.

In Erik's confusion and pain, he attempted suicide on several occasions and Kaveh found himself wrestling knives and other weapons away from him, often times in the wee hours of the morning. Often, it seemed as though the withdrawal symptoms were worse than the side effects and Kaveh could do nothing to ease the pain his adopted brother was in, no matter how hard he tried.

Seven weeks into the voyage, Erik managed to perch one eye open and examine his surroundings with a clear mind. His head was still swimming, but he felt better than he had in many, many months.

He spotted Kaveh standing near the window, peering out at whatever was there.

"Where am I?" He asked, hardly recognizing the strained sound coming from his throat.

Kaveh turned toward him and a smile slowly formed on his face. He came to stand by the bed and looked down at Erik with guarded concern.

"You're on my ship, my friend."

Erik wrinkled his brow and looked confused, unsure of what to believe.

"You don't have a ship." Erik stated with quiet humor.

Kaveh placed a friendly hand upon his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, feeling Erik stiffen beneath his touch.

"When you feel better, my friend, I will explain everything to you."

Darkness once again claimed him, and he slept for another two days. Then, he finally sat up and began to feel human – for the first time in a very long time.

ЖЖ

Kaveh had explained the situation to Erik, but his friend was reluctant to accept the life he was being offered. They sat at the table, eating some lunch.

They were three months into their journey and France would be on the horizon within the next few days.

"How did you convince the Sultana to let me go?" Erik asked.

"It's a matter of principle, Erik. You are the only remaining male heir to the Laroque Estate and the title of Marquis of Merlot." Kaveh relayed, "The Sultana cannot afford to disregard the request of the Duke…things are already a bit strained with Europe, it was in her best interest to release you."

Erik scowled at Kaveh; he was speculative, to say the least...freedom had been an unattainable dream for so long that he was sure he was being pulled into a trap.

"Why now?" Erik spat, completely at a loss. "I am more of an animal than a man."

Kaveh hung his head at the vehement words Erik used to describe himself.

"You are what you are because the world has made you this way…you have the power to be anyone and anything you desire to be." Kaveh stated. "Your dream of being an architect is within your grasp, Erik…many of the nobles have careers as well as being nobility."

Erik frowned and pulled his eyes from Kaveh, he was troubled of heart and Kaveh understood why; Erik knew nothing about being a nobleman, nor what was expected of him.

"You will be as successful at this as you are at everything you attempt, my friend…don't underestimate yourself."

Erik placed his hand on Kaveh's shoulder and gave it a strong, friendly squeeze, "You did not have to follow me, Kaveh…you could have had a life in Persia – now you are nothing more than a criminal."

"What! And let you have all the fun? Not a chance…" Kaveh teased.

His eyes took on a serious light before he continued, "…there was nothing there for me, the Sultana and her family have made a mockery out of the country that I love…I belong with the man who saved my life almost at the cost of his own." Kaveh stated.

Erik did not wish to dwell on events of the past…he did not feel that Kaveh owed him anything. He had happened to be in the right place, at the right time.

"I need to get out of this room, Kaveh…I wish to take my meal outside."

No one had been allowed into his room except Kaveh, and Erik was anxious to breathe the sea air and feel the sun on his skin. He stood on steady feet, dressed in casual breeches and a white shirt, and made his way to the deck.

He deeply breathed in the fresh air and, for the first time in months, smiled. He was drug free and hadn't felt this good in years. He placed his forearms on the rail of the ship and looked out over the horizon, knowing his fate awaited him.

Erik heard a man clear his throat and turned to see two men standing before him. They appeared nervous, but very respectful.

"My lord…" The shorter, stately one bestowed. "…I am Edmond Pierpont; personal assistant to Duke Beauvais in the Jenei Province in France. This man…" he indicated the taller man beside him, "…is my assistant, Walther Garnier."

The two men briefly took in the man before them. He had certainly cleaned up well and there was no sign of addiction left in his keen, sea-green eyes. The intense intelligence they sensed in him was disturbingly intimidating, but not nearly as much as the man himself was.

"What makes you so sure that I am this long lost lord of yours?" Erik asked, unaware of their apprehension, "Mr. Hushmand has informed me of your intentions…how can you be sure that I am the one you seek?"

"If his lordship will allow me, I will be more than happy to tell him what I know." Edmond stated, with a respectful bow.

Erik was not used to such respect from men who did not know of the things he was capable of doing; he certainly was not used to being called "my lord" and found it slightly disturbing.

He indicated for them to sit down and then trained his sharp eyes on them,

"Proceed."

ЖЖ

The train was even more harrowing than the ship had been. Erik detested not being able to plant his feet on solid ground. He was lying on his bed in their cabin, trying to get some much needed rest and fighting the urge to be sick.

What was he to do? His life had turned upside down; most would say for the better, but Erik had his doubts.

His "name" was in need of saving; at first, it had seemed rather humorous to him; his "name" meant nothing to him…he hadn't even known his name until he was halfway to France.

Erik Rameau Laroque. It seemed foreign to him, but vaguely familiar. He was expected to restore the glory of the Laroque family, a glory his father had squandered away and destroyed with his greed and debauched lifestyle.

For twenty-four years, Erik had believed himself an orphan…left to die at birth because of his hideous features; but that was not the case. He had a father, a father with whom he was at war.

Edmond and Walther were not forthcoming with news about his birth and early childhood; Erik was certain they knew more than they were saying, but he chose to let it pass – for now.

"He told you nothing of your birth?" Kaveh asked.

Erik shook his head and stared into the moving horizon. The train ride was almost over and they would soon catch a royal carriage to the Duke's estate.

"He says he knows nothing…but I suspect that is not entirely the truth."

Kaveh sighed and hung his head. The despair he heard in Erik's voice was not new to him. He desired to know why he had been born with the deformity; what had caused it…but he still knew nothing.

"Perhaps your family records or the estate will hold the answers." Kaveh voiced.

"Yes; or the Duke himself." Erik mumbled.

Erik turned from him and began gathering their things. They would be getting off at the next stop.

Erik kept looking at the passing landscape, remembering how he had watched it grow smaller and smaller from the back of a merchant ship he had stowed away on fourteen years ago…he had thought he was never to see the gypsies or his beloved France again.

Well, things had certainly changed.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

CHAPTER 3 – **The Measure of a Man **

Erik warily approached the monstrous structure; he was not certain about meeting this man who had engineered his freedom

Edmond and Walther had offered little information about him; only that he was a man who respected intelligence and character, and expected complete loyalty from his friends. In exchange, he gave his complete loyalty.

Having arrived in Paris by train, they took the carriage from Paris to the southwestern corner of the Jenei Province in France . The Dukes residence rested within the Merlot Region, not far from the border of Spain .

Erik admired the landscape as they rode; he had forgotten how beautiful France was. The rolling countryside and the lush greenery were sights he had never thought to see again; but God had seen fit to bring him back… 'To what purpose?' he wondered.

Anxiety ate at his nerves as he watched the scenery through the small window in the carriage. Erik knew his temper was in check, he prayed that there would be nothing to set him off; it wouldn't do for this man to see his inner demons.

The carriage came to a halt and Erik and Kaveh made their way toward the giant castle. The air was crisp and cold, as was customary for December in western France .

Before Erik could place a knock upon the it, the ominous door slowly opened to reveal a middle-aged, medium height man with silver hair and a broad smile.

"Welcome, my lord, you are expected." He voiced, making direct eye contact with Erik. "His grace will see you in the drawing room, follow me."

Erik and Kaveh followed the older man through a large hallway decorated with family paintings and coats of arms; they were directed into a large room with the smell of leather and gin. Erik couldn't help thinking that the place resembled a mausoleum or a museum rather than a residence.

The man standing by the window was rather short by Erik's standards, but stout and regal. He turned to face them as the doors closed, and his handsome features lit up with a genuine smile.

Erik thought him to be in his mid to late fifties; he had short, salt and pepper hair, and a well-trimmed and neat beard. His sable eyes were sensible and shrewd, allowing no detail to escape his notice. Erik had no doubt that this man could be ruthless if need be, but his character seemed to be one of peace.

"Erik Laroque, it is good to at last rest my eyes upon you." The older man didn't just look regal and poised, his voice demanded attention, and he seemed to be accustomed to getting it.

Erik took the hand that stretched toward him and bowed his head in a proper greeting; something about this man demanded his respect; and Erik sensed the respect the man already had for him.

"I am Duke Sergei Beauvais; this is my estate and you will remain here for several months to recuperate, train, and build your strength…" his eyes swept over Erik's overly thin frame and he called the butler, "…you must be famished." He said to Erik while he moved toward the door.

Erik lifted his brow amusingly when he realized that the Duke thought him very thin; which he was…food had always been of little importance to him. The drugs had altered his taste and everything tasted the same; until recently. He was drug free and had been for several weeks – food was suddenly an entirely new experience.

"Have the chef prepare the meal and present it straightaway, our guests are in need of nourishment and I will join them in the dining room."

The butler bowed low and hurriedly bustled away to do his master's bidding.

"Who is your companion?" Erik heard the Duke ask as he made his way back over to them.

"This is my truest and only friend, Kaveh Hushmand. He ruined his chances of ever returning to Persia by helping me leave." Erik stated.

"Then I owe you a great debt of gratitude, Monsieur Hushmand, a great debt indeed."

Kaveh bowed and shook the hand extended to him. "I owe Erik my very life, your grace…it was the least I could do."

Sergei moved around Erik as if assessing him for resale, and came to stand directly in front of him.

Erik saw warmth and concern in his open gaze; but the uncomfortable flashbacks that his prying eyes produced caused Erik to rage within and tremble without.

"The extent of your treatment in Persia has reached my ears, Erik…I wish to see what they have done to you as well as hear it."

Erik felt the panic close in on him and his instinct was to refuse the Duke's request.

Sergei moved closer and put his hands upon Erik's shoulders. He noticed how the younger man tensed up under his touch, and the pain from years of abuse echoed in his eyes.

Sergei frowned and soothed Erik's sudden anger, "I am not going to hurt you, relax…I only wish to know you better so that I can determine what treatment and training is best for you."

He closed his eyes against the fury that threatened to spill forth and calmly asked, "What are you, some sort of doctor?"

His temper was one thing he knew he had to get a hold of, but his years in Persia had taught him to trust no one until they proved themselves; and even then, he was cautious.

"Of sorts, yes…" Sergei ordered, "…I have a medical background and have studied the human condition, extensively, for many years."

"I'm not some experiment for you to dissect and study, and I won't allow myself to ever be exhibited in such a way again." Erik's tone was acidic and piercing.

"I'm not interested in putting you on display or making a classroom project out of you, Erik…my interest is personal; I need you to assume your father's title, take over the family holdings, and become the Marquis he and his father before him, could not manage to be."

Erik frowned, but interest filled his eyes, "What makes you think I am capable of such greatness?" Erik asked, "You don't even know me."

"I know more than you think, Erik…if you let them, your past experiences can make you a better man." Sergei noted, "Take your strengths and develop them to deadly perfection; your cunning intelligence, your animal-like reflexes, your unmatched abilities in music and architecture…make these the pivot around which you base your life."

Sergei stared Erik straight in the eye and continued, "You are already a man worthy of my respect and admiration….two things I don't readily grant to just anyone."

Erik raised his chin in fascination, no one had ever said they respected him or admired him, but there was no guile in the man's words – he was being honest and forthright.

"Let me help you, Erik…I will earn your trust and your friendship."

Erik removed his shirt so that Sergei could see the extent of his scars. Oddly enough, Sergei's concerned looks and paternal manner allowed Erik to relax enough to tolerate the assessment.

"You bear the scars of a man who has endured much agony, and yet, your spirit is still intact." Sergei observed. "A lesser man would have succombed to the punishment and become a mere ghost of a man; but you are an extraordinary individual, Erik...extraordinary!"

The Duke was appalled and disgusted with those who had done this and he would do what he could to help Erik move beyond his brutal past and become an even stronger and more confident man.

ЖЖ

Erik looked to Sergei as a son would a father, and in the four months he spent under the watchful eye of the Duke, Erik showed himself to be a versatile, volatile, and highly skilled swordsman and knife thrower; but is was his skill with the Punjab lasso that thrilled and amazed Sergei.

"You are extraordinary with this weapon!"

Erik sighed remorsefully and frowned at his mentor, "I developed my skills by becoming the head assassin for the Sultan."

Sergei had assumed such, but he had not said anything.

"Many a man found himself on the receiving end of this rope - death was instantaneous…I can still see the faces of each man every night while I try to sleep."

Sergei felt for the man whose life had been ripped from him with cruel precision when he was but an infant; but what a man he was.

"I have an aversion to death, and I want no part in it." Erik's tone was emphatic and dangerous.

"How about using your skills to render fear in the hearts of men whose ambition is to thwart the rights of the people and fill their own pockets with more money?" Sergei asked - eager to know the answer.

Erik raised his visible brow and smirked at the older man, "I have no problem with fear…many have feared me and they had good reason."

"Well good, there are a few lessons that need to be taught...but more on that later." His voice trailed off for a moment and then he looked at Erik with a smile.

"Let's go eat." He suggested as he walked out the door.

He waited while Erik passed him and then put his hand on his shoulder, "You are a valuable asset to your family name, Erik, and to France …it is good to have you back."

ЖЖ

_Four months later_

Erik was intrigued by the man who stood before him; so, this was Pascal Laroque, current Marquis of Merlot and Erik's father.

There was a resemblance, mostly in the strong chin and dark hair. Erik had sea-green eyes that changed color with his moods, he was tall and statuesque, and he had an air of refinement about him.

Pascal had none of these things. He stood as though he was ready to flee the scene, his shoulders slumped as though hiding something, and he never made eye contact with anyone, even if they were right in front of him.

He kept glancing at Erik with disgust in his eyes, mouthing vulgarities under his breath, and he refused to answer any questions directed at him.

"Pascal Laroque, you are hereby stripped of your title and holdings – they are passed to your only son and heir, Erik Rameau Laroque." Sergei forced Pascal's eyes to meet his by lifting his chin with his strong hand, "Your son has chosen to allow you to remain at Vassadelle; you are in his debt."

Sergei turned to Erik, "He will be a thorn in your side, Erik; I think you should renounce him now, pass judgment, and send him into the wilderness."

"I will not abandon my father, as he abandoned me." Erik stated with fortitude.

Sergei shook his head and smiled, "You are a better man than I, Erik…a much better man."

"No, just one who's seen life from a different angle, that's all." Erik pointed out.

On that, they were in total agreement.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**To answer a question posed in a review, Erik was 24 when he left Persia, and ten years have passed, which makes him 34. Christine is 25. ****The lack of reviews for the last chapter was disheartening, but I will forge onward.**

CHAPTER 4 – **Nothing Personal, Just Business **

_Merlot _ _Region_ _France__, 1872, ten years later _

Erik Rameau Laroque, Marquis of Merlot, rode in stately form atop his faithful, black Arabian stallion, Drago. The mist descended upon him in the morning stillness, allowing him to appreciate the shroud of mystery it provided around his dark presence.

The vast land of his estate stretched out in front of him, but the loneliness in his heart combined with the emptiness in this soul swallowed up any joy or pleasure his wealth should have provided.

He had maintained his lands and title through the war, thanks to the people of the Merlot Region. For ten years, he had fought and earned every ounce of respect he was due from those who called themselves his loyal subjects.

When the war came to his back door, Erik used his estate, the money his family had horded for years, and the strength of his sword, to feed those within his region. When other regions were experiencing civil unrest, the Region of Merlot was enjoying the food and shelter that its Marquis could furnish.

It hadn't been an easy time for Erik. He had unrest in his house that demanded his immediate attention. When Duke Sergei Beauvais paid a visit to the estate, Erik had been urged to take whatever means were necessary to ensure peace.

"You can't allow this to continue, Erik…you know this." Sergei had prompted. "You have turned the name of Laroque into a name worthy of respect again, and I know that you will continue to head this family and this region for many years."

"I will not kill my own father, Sergei…I have enough blood on my hands." Erik had retorted. "The humiliation I have suffered at his hands is personal; it does not affect my station, or my ability to run this region."

Sergei had watched the play of emotions cross the exposed side of Erik's face. "You still know nothing of your birth?"

Erik had said nothing, but that was all the affirmation that Sergei needed. He had walked up to the larger man and reassured him.

"My experience has taught me that the servants know more than we give them credit for knowing." Sergei offered, "I will do my best to find out what I can; all I know is that your parents abandoned you, I know nothing more."

Erik had watched him leave, knowing that the man would do all he could; he would have to talk to the servants, eventually, but the timing had never seemed right.

Erik tried to clear his mind, there was no sense dwelling on events in the past that would only cause bitterness and pain; what was done was done, and no amount of regret or sorrow could change that.

He had the loyalty and respect of the men of his guard and law enforcement. The population of Merlot and the surrounding provinces knew him to be fair in his judgment and quick but cruel in his punishment; a select few had crossed him and had paid the consequences.

What he had learned about his family from the records had been disturbing and alarming. He descended from a line of greedy, arrogant nobles who cared little about those they were supposed to protect; Erik was appalled.

Now, Erik felt the darkness of his family descending on him as he came to terms with what he was doing; he was forcing a woman to marry him without regard for her feelings or her rights. He really had no say in the matter, either, but Sergei would have relented had Erik insisted.

Erik shrugged off the feeling of guilt that clung to him. He marveled at the fact that he still possessed a conscience, but he had survived this long by ignoring the sentiments of that persistent, yet quiet voice that echoed in his mind.

She would adapt, as he had been expected to do when he was dropped into this world ten years ago. He wanted nothing from her except her ability to be a mother to Kamilla and Timotheus; a role he could not fill.

Pushing thoughts from his mind, the dark master drove the stallion relentlessly through the fog that covered the hillside and finally came to a stop inside the stables. Drago stomped his hooves, snorted his approval of the hard ride, and nudged the tall figure that now stood in front of him.

"Drago, old boy, you never fail to give me a thrill." Erik lulled, in soothing tones.

The proud stallion nodded his head as though he understood the words and Erik rubbed his nose lovingly. After a few moments of silence, Erik made his way out of the stables.

A tall, dark man stood just outside the stables and waited for Erik to finish with Drago. His folded arms came down to his sides and a soft smile graced his slightly aging face as Erik drew near.

"Kaveh, you look more disappointed in me than usual." Erik stated, accusingly, "What have I done now?"

Kaveh was a bit put out by Erik's tone, but brushed it off as a reaction to the days scheduled events, "You never disappoint me, Erik…I am concerned, that is all." Kaveh clarified.

Erik dropped his head and immediately regretted his terse words, "Forgive me, old friend."

Kaveh smiled and patted him on the shoulder, although he would have preferred to wrap an arm around his shoulder in support.

"The father is here, along with his solicitor, as you expected."

Erik cringed inwardly at the thought of having to deal with these people. He did not want this, any of it, but he was given little choice in the matter.

"What am I to do, Kaveh?" Erik bitterly asked. "I never wanted to marry the first time…never; now, I am to ruin another woman's life, just to save her family business, give my children a mother, and appease the request of Sergei."

The older man just frowned and nodded, "You hardly ruined Nicholle's life; she proved to be very capable of doing that herself."

Erik reflected on his friends words and that lifted knowing eyes, "I suppose you are correct…" he agreed, "…I hate this, Kaveh…I hate everything about it."

"May I suggest, my friend, that you tone the bitterness down a tad before meeting her father…I have never known you to be anything less than a gentleman." Kaveh advised.

Erik turned lethal eyes on Kaveh, "I don't feel very accommodating this morning, but I shall do my best."

Kaveh stood before him and placed both hands on Erik's powerful shoulders, "You can't help the course of events that have led up this moment, Erik." Erik raised his brow inquisitively as Kaveh continued, "Delancy Dock-Side is in need of the money you can offer for rebuilding and restocking, and you are in need of a proper wife – at least the Duke thinks so."

Erik's full lips turned up at the edges, which sufficed as a reluctant and rare smile, "I'm sure that allows this young lady to sleep better at night knowing she is coming into the beast's den to save her family business." It was Kaveh's turn to smile as Erik continued, "Anywhere I go it seems I am at another mans whim….I will do as the Duke has asked."

Kaveh watched his friend remorse over events he could not change. Erik had never known love in its truest form, but Kaveh had; he had fallen fast and heavy for a beautiful English woman within months of arriving in France. Sarah had been all he had ever wanted in a wife, but she had died, barely a year after they married, trying to bring his son into the world…he had lost them both.

Both men stared forebodingly into the tumultuous sky, dreading the events to come; there was a storm brewing on the horizon. Erik considered the irony of that and compared it to the storm he felt in his soul.

They trudged toward the large, ornate castle-like mansion; knowing that within its walls stood a man whose life had been torn asunder by one simple piece of paper.

He did not wish to appear harsh to this man, but Erik could not afford the luxury of compassion at this point. Duke Beauvais had insisted that Erik marry again, for the sake of the Laroque name and for the sake of pretenses. He wanted a proper wife to grace the halls of Vassadelle and Erik's arm.

His father had laughed hideously at the idea of his marriage.

"I've seen her; she's pudgy and dull…perfect for a beast like you." Pascal had remarked.

The hatred his father held for him cut Erik like a knife, Pascal had wasted no time in making sure that Erik knew how he felt. Since the Duke had stripped him of his title and holding, Pascal had been hostile and malicious, especially since the Duke had given the title and the holdings to Erik.

It was because of his father's stupidity and lack of self-control that Erik had ended up married in the first place.

Nicholle – just the thought of her caused a chill of pure agony to run up his spine. Never would another woman have the power to hurt him – never. He had thought himself in love with her…what a fool he had been.

Nicholle – light blond hair, topaz eyes, delicate frame – acid for blood and ice for a heart - Nicholle.

His father had pursued her ravenously, despite Erik's interest in her. So imagine Erik's supprise when Pascal insisted he marry her; unbeknownst to Erik, Pascal was playing him for the fool...Erik growled into the wind and shook the horrid memories from his mind.

Kaveh walked quietly beside him, knowing the heaviness that weighted Erik down. The humiliation he had suffered in Persia did not compare to the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of his own father.

The carriage parked on the cobblestone drive was proof that his guests had arrived and were awaiting his arrival; so, with the bad taste of bile in his mouth, Erik glided through the front door, removed his hat and riding coat, and headed toward the parlor.

James, the butler, lifted a brow at the irritated look on his master's face.

"My lord, proceeding into that room with such a dark countenance will no doubt bring about less than your desired outcome…"

James bowed, but the smirk was still upon his aging, but handsome features, "…Lord Erik, I have not been with you for these ten years only to better my skills as a butler; I tended the ravenous and debauched needs of your father before you…and you are a much better man than he could have ever deemed to be…" James was proud to be in the house of Laroque, for the first time in his entire tenure with the family, "…show them the man that I know you to be."

Erik had always valued James's advice and today was not exception. He had made it clear when coming to Vassadelle that he wanted his servants to feel free to speak to him anytime, and about anything.

"James, somehow you always keep me grounded." Erik remarked with a wink.

Kaveh opened the door to the drawing room and Erik elegantly swept through it. The two men stood as he entered the room and Erik moved slowly, but gracefully toward them. Their heads inclined, as a show of respect for his title, but Erik knew they would just as soon run him through with a rapier.

"You must be Gustav Delancy." Erik stated to the older man, shaking his hand firmly.

The man nodded, but his eyes never left Erik's face. Erik noticed that the man was only slightly shorter than he was; broadly built, had a head of thick, course, gray hair, and seemed to favor his left side.

The blue eyes that stared into him were honest and agonized; the mouth below them was stern and unsmiling. If Erik did not possess the fortitude that he did, he would have cowered beneath that unwavering stare.

"I had to meet the man who intends to go through with this charade of a marriage – why my Christine?" Gustav growled, knowing this man had the power, the means, and the backing to cast him into a lifetime of servitude for his insolence.

Erik turned his back to the man, no longer wanting to look into those searching eyes. He walked toward the large desk that filled the corner of the room and took a seat behind it, placing his hands in front of him.

When he spoke, his voice betrayed none of the raw emotions that were purging though his veins. The calm tone almost seemed foreign to him.

"Monsieur Delancy, I assure you – she will be well provided for and her every want and need will be met before she has a chance to ask for it."

The man scoffed at those words and leaned over the desk in a threatening stance, completely unafraid of this legendary man.

"She has all she needs in my household." Gustav challenged.

Erik stood to his commanding 6'3" height and squared his broad shoulders. He was a very intimidating figure and for a moment, Gustav faltered, but he quickly regained his countenance.

"Does she?" Erik challenged with cold, imperious eyes, "Then tell me, Monsieur, why it is that she is twenty-five and still unmarried…you should have found her a suitable husband years ago."

Gustav was unprepared for this line of questioning. He did not want this man to know that Christine was the son he never had; he did not want him to know that no man would have her because of her strong will, sharp mind, and unrefined beauty.

"I never found a man I thought was worthy of her." Gustav stated, hoping the man would understand the love he had for his daughter.

Erik did not respond immediately, but silently rubbed his chin and eventually leaned back in his chair. He had not wanted to know very much about his bride-to-be, none of that was important. It was a marriage in name only for the sake of his family honor, the Delancy shipping business, and for Kamilla and Timotheus, as he required – nothing more.

However, he had heard of her common features and sharp tongue, but he did not intend to engage in any stimulating conversations with her nor did he care what she looked like. Chances were that she would take one look at him and never want to be in the same room with him again.

"Fair enough…it appears that I am in need of a wife and you are in need of financial backing. The Duke has determined that your daughter will be the next Marchioness of Vassadelle as per your conversation several weeks ago pertaining to a certain plea for help." Erik stated, tersely.

With those words, it occurred to Gustav that this man was no more the willing groom, than Christine was the willing bride.

"My estate is drained, my lord, I have nothing to send with her; the war has been very costly." Gustav stated.

He looked around the greats halls of Vassadelle with rage in his eyes. This man hardly seemed affected at all.

"You seemed to have done well for yourself, despite the cost of war." Gustav seethed.

Erik smirked, dangerously, "I possess skills in architecture, art, and music that have helped to keep my estate in running order, and has allowed me to feed and house the people of the Merlot Region, Monsieur Delancy." Erik's voice was low and venomous, "Don't comment on that which you know nothing about."

Gustav had heard about a region in France's western border that had prospered under its leadership, but he had thought it was all a big hoax. It appeared, however, that he had been wrong.

He lowered his eyes and spoke apologetically, "Forgive me, my lord…I did not mean to offend." Gustav begrudgingly found himself liking this man. "May I ask my lord why he has it in his mind to marry a commoner…surely you could have any of the noble women available for marriage."

Erik laughed lightly, "I grow tired of noble women and my mentor, Duke Beauvais, arranged this marriage…as you can see by my visage, Monsieur Delancy, I am not the kind of man women are eager to marry."

Gustav could see how the mask might be intimidating and frightening to a woman, but the man was highly intelligent, elegant and graceful in his movements, and his exposed features seemed to be very attractive.

"My Lord, I can offer nothing for a dowry…I am completely drained." Gustav reported.

"Which is why I seek no dowry…this marriage _will_ happen, Monsieur Delancy, with or without your approval, and it will happen tomorrow."

Gustav studied the tall, dignified man to whom he would surrender his daughter. The stories really did him no justice. He was quite tall and very well built. Midnight black hair lay flat against his head, reaching to just below his collar in the back and his arresting eyes were probably his most intense attribute.

The mask he wore was the only indication that the man had a flaw, of any kind. His visible features were angled, and ruggedly handsome with smoldering green/blue eyes, a full mouth, and a dimpled, strong jaw-line. He had an air of confidence underlined with exceptional intelligence – it was common knowledge that he was a genius.

"Will she be allowed to continue her studies?" Gustav asked, suddenly coming to the realization that this man could very well be the perfect husband for Christine.

Erik's perfect brow lifted and he cocked his head, regarding Gustav with amused interest, "What is it that she studies?"

"She particularly loves music and is an accomplished singer and violinist." Gustav announced, "She is highly intelligent and excels in math, science, and languages."

Erik was impressed. He stood and came around the desk to stand beside Gustav. He saw the depth of love in the man's eyes, a love that he longed to hold onto with every breath he took.

"She may study whatever she desires; she is to be my wife, not my slave." Erik assured him.

The younger man beside Gustav had not said a word, but Erik had the feeling he was making mental notes to use as reference somewhere down the road.

Gustav hesitated to speak, but knew that he had to speak on his daughter's behalf.

"Please, be gentle with her, my lord." Gustav pleaded.

Erik was taken aback by the fear lacing the words he had just heard; did this father actually think he would hurt his daughter?

"Mark my words, Monsieur Delancy; she has nothing to fear from me." Erik murmured, "I trust your trip into the Merlot Region was uneventful and that my bride-to-be is in good spirits?"

"Indeed." Gustav remarked.

"I hope your rooms at the Chateau Dans le Paradis are adequate?"

"They are."

"Very well, my carriage will be at the hotel entrance by 10:00 a.m. tomorrow morning." The Marquis instructed; and then quickly added with a condescending tone, "Don't keep me waiting."

Erik watched the carriage ride off, knowing that Gustav Delancy was no more thrilled about his daughter marrying him, than he would be to have her marry a wildebeest; it was a good thing he had no choice in the matter – but then again, neither did Erik.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**Thank you for your reviews, they mean a great deal to me. **

CHAPTER 5 – **Give Me a Reason **

Erik felt no better about things after the brief meeting with his future father-in-law. He sat down in the east drawing room and brooded for what seemed like hours. He stared into the blazing fire in the fire place, almost in a comatose state, until Kaveh interrupted.

"Erik, preparations need to be made; the wedding party arrives in the morning."

Erik didn't even look away from the dancing flames of the fire as he responded.

"The ring was delivered yesterday; Bishop Farquhar will be here in the morning, and the meal is being prepared as we speak – what else is there?" Erik inquired.

Kaveh sat in the chair next to his friend and silently supported him for a few minutes. Erik mechanically twirled the Scotch around in his glass, staring at the amber liquid as it turned.

"It's not too late to change your mind, Erik…you know that." Kaveh finally stated.

Erik didn't respond at first, but eventually he pulled his eyes from the monotonous movement of the Scotch and gently shook his head.

"I can't do that, Kaveh…no…I won't do that…." Erik sighed and leaded forward in the chair, dropping his head as though defeated. "…I find myself wanting a woman in this cold, ancient manor house – a woman to warm the atmosphere – not for me, Kaveh…for my children."

Erik stood and walked over to the mantle of the fire place with his back to Kaveh. "Sergei assures me that this woman is a spitfire and an independently minded female. He insists that she will be a good influence on Kamilla, a good mother for Timmy, and a much needed proper mistress for this estate."

He moved back to the chair and sat again; still not looking at Kaveh. "What if she's out there, Erik?"

Erik lifted his head in confusion, "Who?"

"The woman of your dreams." Kaveh murmured, "What if she's out there and you're stuck in a loveless marriage."

Erik scoffed and shook his head, "Such a woman does not exist."

ЖЖ

_Flashback - two days ago _

She refused to cry and held her chin in a stubborn tilt.

"Why does he want me?" She asked, dourly.

"It's my fault Christine." Gustav admitted.

She had a confused look in her eyes and Gustav turned from her before he continued.

"I am so sorry, Christine…when I went to the Duke for help, I had no idea he would expect me to give up my daughter." Gustav pleaded, "I only wanted enough funds to restore the business to its pre-war glory."

Christine knew the business was in trouble, but she had not known her father went to the Duke for help.

"Duke Sergei Beauvais is a fair and just man, Christine; I thought he would hear my plea and act accordingly – Delancy Dock-It is a very important upper-class merchant business – the nobles rely on us."

"But I am a commoner – this is highly irregular." Christine argued, coming around to look him in the face.

Gustav agreed, but such unions were not unheard of. "Our family is distinguished and honorable…maybe the Duke just took advantage of the circumstances to better the bloodline."

"Am I expected to love this man, papa?" Christine asked. "You promised me that if I ever married, it would be for love…and nothing else."

His hands were on her shoulders, trying to help her understand the finality of the decision. His weary eyes bore into her features and Christine held his gaze with determination, but pulled from him and paced the floor..

"I've heard of him, papa…he's ruthless and cunning…" she stopped pacing long enough to show her disgust, "….he's killed many."

Gustav sighed; he had heard the same things about the Marquis; and it was disturbing. He would find out in a couple of days when he met the man – face to face.

"Perhaps the Lord is punishing us both; me – for allowing you to develop your mind instead of entertaining young suiters…and you – for being unwilling to be courted in the first place."

Christine looked him deep in the eyes and smiled sheepishly, "God does not work like that, Papa; you know that."

"You are right, my daughter…but that doesn't make it any easier to cope with."

Christine developed a crease in her brow and Gustav knew that her quick mind was at work.

"Papa, I know the war depleted our family holdings and money is scarce, has he agreed to help…will this marriage guarantee the help you sought…or am I to watch as my family's estate and holdings dwindle down to nothing?" She was almost screaming, but controlled the urge to do so. "Tell me I am not entering into a loveless marriage with this Marquis only to warm his bed, bear his touch, and bear his children." Her eyes pleaded with him, "I want to know that you will get the help you need."

Her desire to help her family made the situation bode even less favorably with him, and tears welled up in his eyes.

Gustav backed away from Christine, and turned to wipe his eyes. He hoped that over time, she would come to have a happy marriage with this man, if not a loving one.

"I've not spoken with him yet, Christine…the agreement was apparently made with the Duke." Gustav finally murmured.

She stood proudly before him; looking every inch the strong woman that she was. "I see." She stated.

Gustav found Christine a worthy adversary that afternoon as they played a game of chess. She cleared the silence with her thoughts; thoughts about a certain marquis, "I can only assume he cannot find a wife through the normal means, so he must be portly and short, or elderly and decrepit, or perhaps waspish and homely – not that it matters, I detest him."

She was not talking to him, but Gustav prayed with all his might that this Erik Laroque had none of the attributes she was stating. He knew a few things about the Marquis and felt that Christine might want to know them, also.

"Vile man…" she spit the words out, and then took Gustav's queen - sealing her iminant victory; she was certainly fired up, "…saw an opportunity to have a woman warm his bed and do his bidding…probably some old goat..." Christine ranted.

Gustav started to speak, but Christine refused to hear it, she crossed her arms over her chest and defiantly shook her head, "I wish to know nothing about him, that would give the impression that I care; when, in fact, I do not."

_End flashback_

'That was certainly an entertaining afternoon.' Gustav thought as the carriage moved into the city and stopped in front of the hotel.

Gustav chuckled, seeing himself in her as clearly as he could see the rolling hills of France outside the window. He only hoped she would learn the lessons God had for her faster and more completely than he ever did, it would save her a great deal of heartache in the end.

He withdrew from the carriage and headed inside. It was going to rain and the humidity level and made the outdoors unbearable in a very short period.

Christine greeted him at the door with a fretful look on her face. She had resolved herself to this marriage, but she didn't have to be happy about it.

He walked into the room and placed his cape over the chair, took off his gloves and hat, and turned to Christine.

"You are to wed tomorrow morning at 11:00 am ."

Christine turned from him and went into the washroom.

ЖЖ

Christine Delancy was a practical woman and did not believe in fairy tales or knights on white horses. She knew this marriage was a farce, why would a man of Laroque's station want a bride of common blood?

It had been her decision to know nothing about her future husband; but some things begged questioning.

Why would he marry a woman, sight unseen, who would not advance his family name or increase his holdings? Why did no one know about his past, other than bits and pieces that had probably been leaked out just to increase the shroud of mystery surrounding him?

"Dear God, I'm angry right now…why must I marry a man I already loath…help me." Christine pleaded. "In my heart, I feel that there is more to this than I am being told…give me wisdom and strength."

She ran a bath for herself and lounged for a couple hours while her father and Patrick discussed issues she was certain involved the Duke's arrangements.

She thought about her younger sister, Beth. Beth had wed out of a deep, passionate love and Christine remembered seeing how she lit up every time Stuart entered a room.

Stuart had been her first and only love. They had wed when she was seventeen and he was twenty-three. Giorgia had been born a year after they married and Christine had never seen a couple more in love.

Seven years was all they'd had together. Stuart was killed in the war against Prussia in late 1870; he had left Bethany and Giorgia with very little, and they were going to have to move back in with Gustav and Teresa.

Christine felt the sting of tears welling up behind her closed eyelids, and it wasn't long before the tears dropped to the bathwater in a slow trickle. She had never thought to marry, not really. She had loved once…a delicate, sweet love from years ago; a love her father knew nothing about; a love that had been an act of rebellion against her father, but also against the God she was struggling to accept into her life.

Caleb. He had been everything she thought was perfect in a man; or a boy, really. They had both been sixteen and the thrill of young love ruled their bodies and their minds; they cast aside all common sense and good judgment.

He had been the son of a merchant, living on the edge of town, near the water. He had soft brown eyes and equally soft brown hair; and his kiss had been her undoing. They had made swift promises to each other as the heat of passion took over, and Christine gave up her innocence in a moment of reckless fantasy.

She tried to remember only those happy moments, for the rest of the story tore her heart out. He and his father had decided to take a merchant vessel out to sea, only for a day or two, to trade with a fellow merchant who passed through the area once a year.

The news of the accident had reached the shore in a matter of hours, and Christine had heard by the following day. The storm had been on them before anyone could react; both vessels and all who were aboard were washed away.

That had been nine years ago. Her father did not know she was no longer an innocent. He did not know she had cried herself to sleep for endless nights.

With one breath, she prayed she was not pregnant; but with the other, she prayed she was, than a part of Caleb would live on.

There had been no baby, and Caleb's memory soon faded to a dull ache within the corner of her heart. Now, she was forced into marriage with a man whose reputation was that of a hard, cold shell of a man who never smiled, never laughed, and seldom left the sanctuary of his estate.

"I hate him." Christine seethed toward the ceiling, as she pulled herself out of the tub and wrapped a towel around her tall, rounded figure. "I hate what little I know about him and fear that which I don't."

The still, small voice of God knocked on the recesses of her mind, but Christine pushed Him aside, once again; she chose to wallow in her own thoughts and desires.

She stood in front of the mirror and examined the reflection looking back at her. A wolfish, sardonic smile suddenly came upon her and her eyes lit from an internal heat.

"You may have my hand Erik Laroque, but my heart will be harder to gain." Her voice was composed and determined, "I may have no choice in this, but I'll not bleat and bicker about my lot, I will do what my father has asked me to do."

She would not be the sacrificial lamb, coming to the alter willingly; she would be the ram caught in the thicket – the one that God provided for Jacob when he was tested with Isaac. That ram was kicking and screeching all the way to the alter, and probably got a few good kicks in before succumbing to the will of the stronger; Christine considered that a prophetic vision of her attitude about this marraige.

As she left the washroom, she could have sworn she heard a divine Voice whisper, _"I know the thoughts that I think toward you…thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope."_(a)

She chose to ignore that Voice, as she often did, and moved into her sleeping quarters. She knew her father waited in the main room for her and she was suddenly eager to be in his warm presence.

He greeted her with a wide smile, something she had not been expecting, and Patrick seemed more at ease than he had been earlier.

"I am famished." Christine stated, heading for the door. "Let's go eat some supper and spend the rest of the day together."

"Christine, I want to tell you about…"

"Papa, I already told you – I don't want to know anything about him…it will ruin the rest of my day and I intend to enjoy the day, regardless of whether you do, or not." She stared him straight in the eye, "Tomorrow will hold sorrows of its own…today I live."

Gustav shrugged his shoulders and passed a defeated look over to Patrick. When Christine's mind was made up, there was nothing that would dissuade her until she chose to listen to what needed to be said; or learned things on her own.

(a) Jeremiah 29:11, NKJV

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**Thank you for your reviews, **

CHAPTER 6 – **Preparations and Song **

Pascal paced the length of Erik's imposing study with tautly controlled strides; there were few civil moments between them since the Duke had taken what was Pascal's and passed it to Erik.

He stopped in front of the large window, which overlooked the rolling hills of Vassadelle, a sight of which he had long since grown weary.

There were few moments that past that Pascal did not feel the gripping need to inflict pain on Erik through some means…lately, it had been the children.

Erik threw open the door to his study and almost turned around and walked out as soon as he saw his father; these were never pleasant times and Erik was in no mood for a confrontation.

"Have you seen her?" Pascal asked in a mocking tone.

Erik sighed and swallowed the distaste that rose in his throat. "No."

"When is the wedding?"

Erik closed his eyes and heaved a soulful sigh; he calmed the boiling heat of his rage and then stared at his father beneath the sable fringe of his long lashes.

"In about two hours; and you are not welcome to attend."

There had been no hope of repairing this relationship once certain events had been set in motion; Erik barely tolerated the man who had single handedly issued the worst humiliation he had ever experienced.

"I suppose if there's no light in the room and you don't mind a few bumps and hills, she will be pleasing to bed…but then, you're no prize, are you?"

Erik smiled a dark, angelic smile and his face was rife with controlled hatred.

"You're such an unmitigated knave, father." Erik spat.

Erik had left the door to his study standing ajar and eight-year-old Kamilla breezed into the room in regal fashion.

"Hello papa." She sang as she embraced Erik with exuberance.

Her bouncing blond curls and delicate features were the image of her mother, but her bright grey/green eyes, dimpled chin and perfect, straight nose allowed Erik to claim her as his.

"Hello, Kami…have you been good for Madam Forsythe?" Erik asked, brushing the hair from her forehead.

"Yesssss." She responded, smiling at him and rolling her eyes.

Erik had never thought he would like children, but he found that he did. Kamilla had become dear to him from the moment her first, high-pitched screech filled the halls of Vassadelle.

She had no preconceived notions about him and she had accepted everything about him from the moment he first held her in his arms. When she had been born, Erik had immediately become the father he had never had; it did not matter that she was not his daughter by blood.

By the time Nicholle had given birth to Timotheus, Erik was past the point of caring whether his blood flowed through his veins or not, he was Erik's son.

Nicholle had not survived the birth, and Erik could not find it in himself to mourn her loss; she had never wanted the children and Erik missed nothing about her. He relished the gift she had given him in the children, regardless of whether she had intended to give it, or not.

He forced the thoughts from his mind and concentrated on his daughter. Madam Forsythe knocked upon the door and entered carrying Timmy in her arms. He had just finished nursing at the breast of a wet nurse, and Erik was anxious to hold him.

It was still a wonder to him, the intricacy of a baby's face - with the wide, innocent eyes and the ever-present, toothless grin. Erik cooed at Timmy and chuckled at the way the small boy tugged at the edges of the mask, as though trying to remove it. Most of the time, when he was around the children, he did not wear his mask; he wanted them to know him as he was, and not fear him.

Kami leaned into him and played with her brother, than she turned and kissed Erik's marred cheek.

"I love you, papa." She said, as she skipped out of the room.

Hearing those words still had the power to bring tears to his eyes. He may never hear them grace the lips of a woman, but hearing them said by his daughter was music to his ears.

Pascal scoffed as his eyes watched the child leave, "If I were still in charge of things around here, that late wife of yours and her bastard children would have been out in the cold ages ago."

Erik glared at his father and his aristocratic mouth curled into a snarl, "Oh that's rich father, coming from you." His voice was smooth, but laced with jagged glass, "If I were you, I wouldn't speak - you appear more intelligent that way."

Pascal narrowed his eyes and stared at Erik with contempt, "You weren't even man enough to bed your own wife…that Persian Sultana must have rid you of more than your dignity."

Enraged with disdain, Erik took a deep breath and swallowed every profane word that threatened to spill from his lips.

Timmy was sensing his father's ill mood, and he began to cry. Erik bounced him gently and tried to calm him, but the infant had other ideas.

Erik went to the door and handed Timmy over to Madam Forsythe, and then closed the door. Hot rage poured through him, and he felt the crushing pain of an intense headache.

"Your time grows short, father…" Erik spat. "…one way – or another."

Erik's fiery eyes made Pascal squirm on his feet. "I know about your 'arrangement' with Nicholle, father." Erik seethed, "I know how you conspired with her to gain back Vassadelle through her marriage to me...what you didn't count on, was her getting pregnant."

He was valiantly trying to curtail his fury, but found it winding around him like a cold winter wind.

Erik's piercing eyes shot through his father, his voice was acidic but deadly calm, "Don't, for one moment, think that I am unaware of what goes on around me…" a dangerous smirk played upon his lips, "...when in Persia, I was pitted against the most infamous criminal minds of our time…"

Erik lowered his inimitable eyes and scowled at Pascal, "…they were found to be lacking. I am not a man to be trifled with, father…do not underestimate me…under any circumstances."

Pascal swallowed, with difficulty, and saw, for the first time, the legendary man that was both feared and respected. A sardonic smirk formed on his mouth and his devilish eyes twinkled, "So, you know of my sins against you…what do you intend to do?"

"What do I intend to do?" Erik scoffed at the question. "The duke thinks I should kill you, and believe me, I have been sorely tempted on many occasions to do just that…" Erik's harsh, humorless laugh pierced Pascal's ears, "…but there are still a few secrets I hold…" he leaned closer to his father's pinched features; "…she was with child when I married her." Erik felt a degree of satisfaction as a shadow of doubt crossed his father's handsome features.

A soft knock sounded on the door and Erik calmed his nerves before stating, "Enter."

Mr. Lumpkin, the head butler, stood at the door with a pleased and proud look. He announced the arrival of the carriage carrying Gustav Delancy, Patrick Connelly, and Christine.

"Shall I show them to the drawing room, my lord…it seems to be a popular place for such gatherings?"

Erik sensed the dry humor in his life-long servants tone, and he thanked God for James' ever present words of wisdom, humor, and encouragement.

"Yes, James, that will be fine."

Pascal had gone eerily quiet. His heart was beating frantically and doubts were swimming in his mind. Could what Erik was indicating be true?

Erik strode toward the door with a heavy heart, and light footsteps. As he reached the door, he turned to look at his father before exiting the room, "Don't think, for one minute, that I have any sentimental obligation toward you…you have forced my hand on many occasions…I grow weary of the game."

"If the Duke wanted me dead, what kept you from doing what he asked?" Pascal asked, unrepentantly.

Erik showed no sign of emotion, but simply stared into Pascal's eyes, "I did."

ЖЖ

Erik was disturbed as he walked down the long hallway toward his sleeping quarters and the conservatory. It was his wedding day; in about an hour, Christine Delancy would pledge herself to him; the thought terrified him on so many levels.

He feared women…truth be told…he had never feared any man, but women he did not understand and that petrified him. He loved being near them and admiring their beauty, especially natural, easy-going beauty that was often overlooked.

Erik had found, when dealing with women, that they found him less than desirable, so he had just steered clear of them for the greater part of his life. He had no desire to marry a woman who was only interested in his title and wealth, and he was certain that was the only way he would ever catch the eye of a woman.

He had given Christine no reason to do anything but hate him, and he was certain she did, without even seeing him. Once she saw him, he was certain she would despise him even more.

He felt the call of the music, and quietly made his way to the conservatory. He closed the door and pulled the day curtains, draping the room in shades of quiet yellows and dusky tans. He gracefully moved onto the bench and ran his hands over the smooth surface of the grand piano.

Nimble fingers began fluttering over the keys effortlessly, making the music that filled his soul and the words that filled his mind come to life...

_"Is there a purpose in this madness…a reason why I yearn? _

_There has to be more to life…some reprieve for one like me. _

_"How can I bind the gripping fear that imprisons my aching soul… _

_and echoes in my troubled mind, 'You'll never be set free'? _

_"Where can I go to escape the darkness that threatens my very life? _

_It feeds my demons and waters my doubts, 'til naught of me remains. _

_"All I know of love are whispered words, meant for other ears…not mine… _

_and run love does, eluding me – and leaves me drowning 'neath my chains. _

_"I doubt those things I already know and skeptically view the future… _

_Will I ever feel complete again…will these wounds ever heal? _

_"I seek not fame or fortunes lure, I merely seek the truth - _

_If love is not for one like me, than to death I must appeal." _

The melody went on in his head and his fingers continued to skirt over the keys with a skill and deftness that came from hours of practice and years of devotion.

The time spent in Persia had offered him the opportunity to hone his musical abilities until he was a master at manipulating the melody and the lyrics – to such a point that he could use music as a weapon, should he so choose.

A light tap on the door caused him to remove his hands from the keys and stand to accept Barta into the room. She was the newest member of his household staff, and still cowered under the dominant figure he presented.

"My lord, it is time." She stated with downcast eyes and a curtsy.

Erik sighed and rubbed his still aching forehead.

"Thank you, Barta; that will be all."

He followed her out the door and glimpsed his reflection in the full-length, ornately carved oak mirror that filled the wall opposite the conservatory entrance. He started at his feet and moved his gaze upward.

His fine leather boots where polished to a shine, his clothes were impeccable and of the latest fashion, and his dark, shoulder length hair was bound in a single ponytail by a black velvet tie. He still had unruly strands that insisted on dangling down the side of his face and over his forehead, but that would have to do.

He frowned at the mask that stared condescendingly back at him. This was how his future wife would see him for the first time. Should she grant him her friendship and gain his trust, he would show her what was hidden behind the mask; but only then.

The voices carried down the long hall, and Erik heard the distinct sound of a woman's soft speech. He pushed the nervous twist of his stomach from his mind, and started toward the portico where Gustav Delancy, Patrick Connelly, the priest, and Christine awaited his arrival.

ЖЖ

_Two hours earlier _

Christine had admired the layout of the estate, and especially the gardens, as they had approached the long, cobblestone driveway. It has not occurred to her that her new home would be the most beautiful she had ever seen.

She was marrying nobility, after all; but much of the nobility squandered their riches and flaunted their titles, however, she had learned that her future husband did neither of these things.

The room she was dressing in was feminine in décor, with light lavender draperies and bed coverings, white walls with shades of lavender trim and dark cherry furniture. The closet was huge, allowing for a wardrobe that she did not have, but desired and the washroom was stocked full of every modern feminine device known to man – or woman, for that matter.

Christine pondered the idea that Lord Laroque kept his mistress in this room and that she was, at this very moment, sizing Christine up as competition; the idea made Christine laugh aloud, but she scanned the room for hiding places.

Assured that she wasn't being watched, Christine allowed the chambermaid to finish dressing her and arranging her hair.

"Thank you for assisting me; I could not have done this without you." Christine said, assuring the young woman that she was appreciative.

"I am Barta, my lady; I am to be your personal maid."

Christine smiled at the young woman and gently touched her hand. "Nice to meet you Barta, my name is Christine."

"I know your name, my lady; but it is not proper that I call you by your name."

"I am a mere commoner, much like you, Barta."

The young woman lowered her gaze and curtsied, "No, my lady, you are the Marchioness of Vassadelle."

The entrance of her father interrupted them; he was checking on her progress and hoping she was close to being ready.

"My sweet Christine, you are a vision!" Gustav complimented.

Christine had chosen an ivory gown with lace trim, simple flower designs on the flowing skirt, and a modest neckline that showed her generous cleavage.

The quiet strains of a piano came wafting toward them and they all stopped to listen for a moment. They could not make out the words, but the voice they heard was remarkably beautiful.

"The melody is so forlorn, and achingly sad." Christine commented in a whisper.

Gustav had an idea who it was, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He produced a long, slim, black box and instructed her to open it.

"Your husband-to-be insisted that you would need this to grace your neck for the ceremony."

Christine frowned at him, but took the package and lifted the top. A stunning necklace was nestled against the black silky interior of the box; South Pacific pearls combined with glittering diamonds glistened back at her.

"It's lovely!" Christine exclaimed.

Gustav had to agree, as he placed it around her neck and clasped it. It reflected her deep eyes and brought out the midnight blue that few knew was hidden in their dark depths.

"Come my dear, it is time." Gustav finally uttered.

They moved down the hall and toward the portico. Christine felt her heart throbbing in her throat, for the moment had finally arrived.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**To answer a question posed in a review. I wrote the poem/song in chapter 6. There is no melody to it, but the character of Erik would have worked a melody into it somehow.**

**This is not the eleborate wedding I normally write, this is just a means to and end; so I beg your forgiveness ahead of time.**

CHAPTER 7 – **A Wedding, of sorts **

If Christine closed her eyes, she could imagine that she was in a sacred chapel about to be married to the man of her dreams and her entire family was present to witness the blessed event.

However, the sad truth was, she was never going to have that wedding and the man she was about to marry was a stranger to her.

As she stood at the door ready to take the walk of doom, she caught sight of a tall, dignified, darkly clad figure at the far end of the terrace.

She could not see his face, but the broad expanse of his back was very pleasing to the eyes.

'Perhaps he's the bishop…" she thought, but then she saw a man wearing the distinct wardrobe of the bishop and knew that was not the case. 'He's not dressed like a servant and he carries himself like a noble…"

She tried to refute the truth as it stared her in the face; the tall, dignified, darkly clad figure was her soon-to-be husband.

"So much for being short and portly.' She chided to herself.

She proceeded toward the figure, while she stared indignant holes into his back. He didn't turn to look at her while she walked toward him.

Erik, for his part, shook profusely under the convincing charade of cool composure that he maintained with great effort. He could do nothing but stare blankly into the wall in front of him, wishing he could crawl inside it and disappear.

_'_He's not even slightly curious about what I look like.'Christine commented to herself.

Gustav walked her to him and then stepped back. She avoided looking at the stiff, dark man beside her, but she felt the power emanating from him like a pulsing life source.

"Who gives this woman to this man in the bonds of matrimony?" The bishop asked.

"I do." Gustav choked out.

Christine felt the tears begin to flow and could not stop them. She proudly held her head up, ignoring them as they inched down her stoic face.

Erik had not looked fully into her face, but he could feel the underlying rage she was fighting to hold back. He sensed, but did not see, the tears she was shedding, and a twinge of guilt plucked at his conscience.

"Do you, Marquis Erik Rameau Laroque, take Christine Ana Delancy to be your wife; to honor and cherish all the days of your life, until death do you part?"

Christine chanced a look at the man who would soon promise to honor and cherish her but who could not bring himself to look at her. She stared at his left profile, awed by what she saw. He was very attractive – tall and stately with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Raw power and intense passion seemed to lurk beneath the surface of his civility and Christine could not help the curious thrill that raced through her.

"I do." He stated without emotion.

Christine felt her heart lurch at the sound of his voice. She shook the silky robe of his voice from her shoulders and slipped into the comfortable robe of indifference.

"Do you, Christine Ana Delancy, take Marquis Erik Rameau Laroque to be your husband; to honor and cherish all the days of your life, until death do you part?"

With her head held defiantly up, and her voice forceful, she proudly accepted the role being forced upon her.

"I do."

"Do you have the ring?" The bishop asked.

For the first time since the ceremony began, Erik turned to his bride and almost forgot who he was, where he was, and what he was doing.

Her eyes captivated him and he saw the high-level of intelligence that rested in their midnight oasis. Her hair was almost the same color as her eyes, black with blue tint. Her skin was flawless, the color of fine porcelain, and looked to be as soft as the petals of a rose. She was full of figure and every inch was enticingly feminine.

"The ring, my lord….do you have it?" The Bishop Farquhar asked again.

Erik, without taking his eyes from her, reached into his pocket and produced the most exquisite ring; a two-carat, marquis-cut diamond nestled between two priceless pearls, there were twenty smaller diamonds circling the band; Christine realize it matched the necklace he had given her earlier.

He slipped it on her the ring finger of her left hand and was happy to see that it fit perfectly. He did not miss the tremble that went though her, and he dropped his eyes and closed them briefly, hiding the pain of her palpable fear of him.

"By the power vested in me by God and the holy church, I know pronounce you man and wife." The bishop shut his Bible and smiled, "You may kiss your bride."

Erik quickly swept his lips across her cheek and stood back up. The scent of her permeated his senses – he had never thought that rose petals could be so intoxicating.

He ran his eyes over her features and thought how she was not the striking beauty that Nicholle had been; but his new wife was unpretentiously beautiful with her black hair, ivory skin, and generous curves.

Her eyes engulfed him in their cool, midnight depths, and he recognized the loathing that cloaked them. This woman despised him already. She was raking her eyes over his beastly visage and Erik was certain she was fighting back the urge to retch.

He had forced this woman to marry him – his reasons were gallant and had nothing to do with him, but he had forced her nonetheless; she hated him…and he could not blame her.

The ceremony was over as abruptly as it had begun. Christine moved away from him as quickly as she could, avoiding looking at him any longer than was necessary for propriety's sake.

He wore a mask! The entire right side of this face – from his forehead down to just above the curve of his lips – was covered! As if he were not imposing enough to everyone, he had to wear that monstrous mask!

A flush of anger colored her cheeks. 'I've been forced to marry a stranger who hides behind a ghastly mask…what could be the reason behind that?' She thought.

She looked up to find his sea colored eyes on her. She immediately looked away, startled at his open assessment of her.

She made her way toward him as he talked to her father. She looked up again, and still found his eyes on her…beautiful, fiery eyes with a sadness she felt to her very soul.

"I've no intentions of shutting her away from her family." Erik finished, taking his eyes from her. "You and your family are welcome at Vassadelle any time."

Christine studied his features as he conversed with her father. She was delighted to find that he was not as old as she had originally thought; he couldn't be more than thirty-five and his visible features were very pleasant, very pleasant indeed..

His rigid stance left no doubt that he was uncomfortable in her presence and could not wait to leave.

Christine squared her shoulders and gave her chin a stubborn tilt, she would not allow this man to frighten her…her father had assured her that he was not abusive or abhorrent; in fact, he had seemed rather taken with the man. She moved past them and examined the rose bushes.

Gustav frowned at his new son-in-law, but shook the hand that was extended to him, "I will be by occasionally, just to see her; as will her mother."

Erik smiled slightly before asking, "Christine's sister, the one directly beneath her, she is widowed, yes?"

Gustav shook his head in sorrow, remembering the death of his son-in-law, Stuart.

"Christine will need female companionship. There is no one here, if Bethany would like, she and her daughter are welcome to reside here…I know that times are rough and her husband had nothing to leave her."

Gustav was in shock. This man was offering to give his destitute daughter a place to live. He was offering to take care of her and his granddaughter in a way that Gustav could not.

"That is generous of you, my lord." Gustav stated, "I will let her know."

"The funds you require to save your business have been deposited into your account by my associate, Kaveh Hushmand. The Duke was going to supply the funds, but I believe in keeping things in the family. You may use them as you see fit; should you need more, you need only to ask."

Erik excused himself and left them to say their good-byes. Christine threw herself into her father's waiting arms, but refused to shed the tears that were waiting at the corners of her eyes. Gustav held her tightly, afraid to let her go for fear she would disappear from him forever.

"He's not a bad man, Christine – I know this." Gustav finally stated, "Perhaps you will learn to like him in time."

Christine forced a smile, but her eyes were warm, "Perhaps…." she whispered, "…but right now, all I feel is anger and indifference."

She walked her father and Patrick to their waiting carriage, feeling very much the sacrificial virgin. She gave her father one last hug and nodded good-bye to Patrick.

She watched as the carriage rode down the long driveway and then disappeared around the corner of Erik's estate.

Every minute that passed made the marriage bed more and more of a reality. Was she ready to yield herself to this stranger? The answer was an emphatic "NO"!

'Alright, so he's not portly and short, elderly and decrepit, or waspish and homely – but he is a boorish man who forced me into an arranged marriage.' She assured herself.

He suddenly appeared at her side, his features unreadable and his stance aloof. He seemed to dominate whatever area he occupied, and Christine found his presence very paradoxical. How could a man frighten her with just the inkling of power he emanated; and at the same time, convince her that no harm would ever come her way as long as a breath remained in his body?

Christine had the thought that if he would just smile, the severity in his visible features would dissipate and she would feel more at ease; but no such action occurred.

The found her eyes straying to the mask many times and she knew is was rude. It would take some getting used to, but Christine was certain that the mask could be overcome; he didn't strike her as the kind of man who would wear such an accessory for display purposes only.

"Shall we?" He indicated with an offer of his elbow, which she took and set a pace beside him. "It is time you were introduced to the children."

Christine stopped walking and gaped at him, "Children?"

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**How many of you have ever known a man who was incredibly sexy without even trying; and, even though you try to hate him...you just can't do it?**

**Case in point...Erik.**

CHAPTER 8 – **A Family Affair**

Erik stood stark still in front of her with an astonished look on his face. No one had told her about the children and they were the sole reason he had married her to begin with.

"I just realized that the Duke did not divulge this information to your father – and neither did I – I thought that Sergei had told your father and he had told you." He stated, looking away from her.

If she had not been so stunned, Christine may have found the situation rather comical, but laughing was the last thing she felt like doing.

It was about his time that Kamilla chose to come bounding toward them with outstretched arms and bouncing curls. Madam Forsythe was following close behind with an embarrassed flush to her face.

"I'm truly sorry, my lord, I tried to stop her from bothering you, but she is rather quick and I am rather old."

Erik smirked at the governess with mock suspicion, "You're not old, Edith, just experienced."

Madam Forsythe gave an amused scoff, winked at Erik, smiled at Kamilla, and left.

Erik smiled down at his enthusiastic daughter and lifted her into his ever-waiting arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed as hard as she could; she rubbed her nose in his neck and breathed in the masculine scent she adored so much.

"Papa, you smell good!" She giggled.

Erik laughed, and the sound reverberated down Christine's spine, leaving her weak in the knees.

'What is wrong with you?' She asked herself. 'He laughs and you forget all that you swore to yourself…are you so desperate that you are willing to forget that he forced you to marry him?'

Christine fought the growing interest she had in her new husband and concentrated on the little blond haired, green-eyed girl in front of her.

"Kamilla, I want to introduce you to the new lady of the manor, Marchioness Christine Ana Delancy Laroque." Erik announced as he placed the young child back on her feet.

Kamilla was instantly on her best behavior; her curtsey was flawless and her smile was genuine.

"I am Lady Kamilla Juliet Laroque."

Christine was amazed at the maturity of this little girl and wondered about her education; she certainly seemed well taught.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Kamilla." Christine smiled.

"Kamilla is the daughter of my late wife, Nicholle." Erik stated, with little emotion sounding in his deep voice.

They made their way into the house and settled in the parlor. Christine found herself feeling much more at ease about the arrangements now that she knew there were children involved; but was curious about the woman, Nicholle; so she was living in the shadow of another woman – what a perfectly awful situation to be in.

She settled her eyes on her new husband and the tiny girl's reactions to this supposedly impenetrable man. She certainly seemed fond of him, and children were good judges of character.

Erik, completely unaware of her searching eyes, turned toward Madam Forsythe and addressed her, "Madam, please bring Timmy."

Christine averted her eyes and became busy listening to Kamilla tell all about the wonderful butterfly she had caught during the morning ride she always took with her father.

When Erik stood beside her holding the most adorable baby boy she had ever seen, she couldn't help but gasp. Erik held him tenderly and talked directly to his face, making sure the baby saw him. His tiny fingers came up and played along Erik's very kissable mouth, and clutched onto his bottom lip, causing Erik to grin down at him even more.

"This little man is Timotheus Philippe Laroque." Erik introduced. "He is the son of my late wife and the heir to Vassadelle and my title."

Christine reached her arms out, indicating that she wanted Erik to place the boy in her arms. He reluctantly did so, but looked very concerned as she held him.

"Oh my, but the children are adorable…" Christine cooed, "…I had no idea there were children involved, my lord."

Christine rocked gently with Timmy in her arms and was rewarded with a giggle and wide grin on his beautiful face. He had soft, light brown curls atop his head and beautiful brownish-green eyes.

Erik returned to his stern, stoic self and inclined his head, "They are the only reason this marriage took place, as far as I'm concerned." He murmured, "I leave you to acquaint yourself with them."

He bowed and was gone before she could state a word in protest; not that she would have, but she would have liked being given the opportunity.

She watched his pleasantly broad back walk out of the room, sat down on the divan, and placed Timmy in her lap. She spent the next hour playing with him and Kamilla.

She found the children incredibly well mannered and very happy. Their behavior spoke well of the care and attention they had received. Surely, a man of the Marquis' status did not have the mundane task of raising his children.

Usually, in the case of the nobles, such tasks were left in the hands of governesses or nannies; but Christine got the impression that he was very involved in their upbringing.

'I wonder if I am expected to be the main influence in their lives.' Christine thought.

The appearance of the butler at the door indicated that it was time for dinner. Christine took Kamilla's hand and carried Timotheus. They followed Mr. Lumpkin toward the dining room and were meant at the entrance by Madam Forsythe.

"He truly is a delightful child." Christine stated with a smile as she handed the infant over to her.

Madam Forsythe lifted her eyes and smiled softly, "Yes, he is…his lordship has done a wonderful job with both of them, considering…."

Christine arched a brow and inclined her head for her to continue, but the older woman clamped her mouth shut as though she had said something she should not have.

"Considering what?" Christine asked.

Madam Forsythe shook her head so faintly that Christine was not certain whether she had done it or not. She turned on her heal, placed a kiss on Timmy's chubby cheek, and made her way down the hall and away from Christine.

Mr. Lumpkin showed her into the dining room and placed her at the end of a long, well-prepared table. Kamilla was seated beside her, but there was no sign of Erik.

"Is the Marquis going to be joining us?" She asked the butler.

"No, your ladyship, he has, once again, avoided the evening meal and any sort of verbal jousting with you - or anyone – you have your work cut out for you." He smiled at her with a twinkle in his eyes, "I do think that you are exactly what he needs."

Christine found this man to be delightful and his fatherly manner eased her frazzled nerves.

"That is awkward, as I have sworn an oath to myself to loathe him." She smirked in response to his light-hearted observation.

Mr. Lumpkin laughed, "Now, that is a shame…why would you do such a thing?"

Christine laughed back, "My reasons are my own, thank you very much."

"My lady, I have served the Laroque family for almost forty-five years; never has there been a lord of Vassadelle that I respected and honored more than Lord Erik." James was insistent, and Christine found his words enlightening, "If you can keep him here long enough, you may find that you actually will grow fond of him."

He winked at her and left. She rubbed her forehead in thought, but looked up when she heard someone enter through the doors; a part of her praying that it was Erik.

An older version of Erik made his way toward her; she could only assume he was Erik's father. His smile was serpentine, and when his eyes found Kamilla, the smile turned to something akin to hatred or disgust.

He came up to Christine and bowed his head in introduction, "I am Pascal Laroque, Erik's father and the former Marquis of Vassadelle."

He lurked over her as though waiting on something and then Christine realized he was waiting on her to lift her hand for him to place a kiss upon it. She did so and he kissed it lightly, but Christine could not help the feeling of repulsion that ran up her spine. There was something unnatural about this man; something that she sensed had caused a great deal of pain.

The look he gave her throughout the meal made her very uncomfortable. She had never been undressed by someone's eyes before; it caused a imperceptible shiver to run down her spine.

The look he had given Kamilla spoke of animosity. What skeletons did the Laroque family have hidden in its closets? Christine shook her head and pushed her concerns to the side.

Christine found herself feeling lonely and abandoned at the elaborate dinner table, and the absence of her new husband made the loneliness even more pronounced. She did her best throughout the meal to avoid Pascal's eyes.

Overall, the day had been eventful and nerve wracking. She missed her father dreadfully, and found she even missed her meddlesome mother.

Dinner was finished without event; Kamilla sat quietly and ate hardly anything. She seemed to have changed her entire character after her grandfather came in.

Mr. Lumpkin returned to the room and escorted them away from Erik's father. She felt his eyes on her as she left the room.

"Where is the Marquis?" Christine asked, "I would very much like to ask him a few things."

"I feel I must inform you, my lady that he has left the estate and is to be gone for at least two weeks on a business venture." Mr. Lumpkin stated, trying to sound casual about it.

Christine stopped in mid-stride, and regarded Mr. Lumpkin with a scathing look, "Is this normal?"

Mr. Lumpkin had the distinct feeling that this woman had a wild streak and would be a spirited partner for Erik.

"Yes, my lady."

Her look was one of confused determination, "Well, I suppose I must acquaint myself with the house and the servants...thank you, James."

Mr. Lumpkin smirked at the perturbed tone he heard in her voice, "You are the lady of the manor, Marchioness, take advantage of that station ." He advised, "There is an extensive and well-stocked library on the second floor and there is the conservatory…you may feel free to go wherever you wish and do whatever you want."

He smiled and patted her shoulder in a fatherly fashion, "However, do stay clear of the Marquis' personal quarters on the third floor; the entire third floor." James emphasized, "He is a very private man…" he smiled and tweaked her chin, "…but the right woman could penetrate that fortress around him, quite easily I think."

Christine smiled and watched James leave 'Well, he can't be all bad if a man like James respects him.' She thought. 'But, I shall also withhold any positive thoughts about my husband until I know more about him…until that time…I faithfully loathe him.'

ЖЖ

Erik was all too eager to be away from Vassadelle; his new wife was turning out to a major distraction that he did not need in his life. He had so hoped that she would be homely and dowdy; but instead, she fascinated and intrigued him – and he could not deny that he found her very attractive.

What was it? She certainly was not the classic beauty Nicholle had been, but there was something entirely breathtaking about her. Her eyes had captivated him first, and then he found he truly admired her generous curves.

Nicholle had been thin…too thin, in his opinion; but, he had not had any positive feelings for that woman for years. Whatever good he had felt toward her had turned to distrust, betrayal, and detestation.

Erik admired his new wife's ability to squash her fear of him and carry on without succumbing to a fainting spell; but fear him she did.

His father must never sense his attraction to her…never; the problems and pain that could cause were insurmountable and Erik wasn't sure he had the strength to fight it anymore.

Maybe he could manage, in the next two weeks, to eradicate her from his system. He was certain his business would keep her image from his mind, and purge his body of any primal and unobtainable desires it entertained; business had a way of doing that.

"What are you thinking, my friend?" Sergei asked.

Erik acknowledged the only other man, besides Kaveh, that he trusted.

"These men you have me doing business with are less than scrupulous; why do you have me dealing with them?"

"Every one of them had questionable loyalties during the war, I simply want them monitored…and there isn't a better man to keep them on their best behavior than you." Sergei stated with a smile.

Erik rather enjoyed being the bane of every man's existence; they all feared him because of his legendary skills and fury – but they feared what they did not know about him even more.

"I don't think I can thank you enough for all that you have done to restore order to the provinces, Erik….you're ability to move from place to place and room to room without being detected has been most helpful."

Erik gave a low bow and found himself almost grinning at the man before him.

"I am curious, though…" Sergei began, "…all we had to do was build your strength and rid your mind and body of the nightmarish affects Persia left on you…was I able to teach you anything?

Erik gracefully walked over to his friend and gave him a rare look of admiration, "Yes, Sergei…you taught me to respect myself; and in turn, I have been able to overcome many of the insecurities that I carried with me from childhood."

Erik smiled, another rare occurrence, "You helped me to realize that all I have seen, done, and been through does not keep me from being a human being; in fact, it showed me that I am indeed human – and humans are flawed creatures."

Sergei was fighting back the tears as he listened to what Erik was saying, "I want you to have happiness and joy in your life Erik, you deserve these, as well."

"Now you sound like Kaveh." Erik smirked. "He's always saying that exact same thing."

"Great minds think alike." Sergei teased.

"Yes, you two must be the exception." Erik teased back.

Sergei laughed and Erik smiled, "We both know I have tried to find happiness, but she was unwilling….I don't think women can see past the mask…or the part of me that lies beneath it."

"Not all women are fickle and shallow, Erik…Nicholle was a fool - I tried to warn you."

Erik nodded in agreement, "I know – speaking of women – are you ever going to remarry?"

Sergei shrugged his sturdy shoulders and turned from Erik to look out the large window in his study.

"Charmayne was my only love, Erik…she gave me twenty-three wonderful years before I lost her…" his eyes clouded over as the memory of his late wife wrapped around his heart, "….I have my daughter, Paige, my son-in-law, Omri, and my three grandchildren to occupy the void in my heart."

"I regret that I never got to know Charmayne." Erik stated.

"She would have liked you very much." Sergei smiled, "She died a few short months before you arrived in France."

Erik pulled his pocket watch out and rolled his eyes at the time, "I must go Sergei…I am meeting them in an hour at the Baroque Hotel."

"I am sure you will gain much business, Erik…there is no man to rival your designs in all of Eastern Europe – probably in the whole of Europe."

Erik gathered his things and opened the door, "When I return, we can discuss that opera you wish me to write."

Sergei nodded and shook Erik's hand; then he watched as he left the castle.

As the carriage slowly trudged down the road, Erik dreaded the events to come. He hated this part the most - playing the Marquis of Merlot to the men who were loyal to his father.

TBC

**I wanted to take this moment to promote a story that I think is well-written and hightly entertaining, but is not getting very many reviews. I would like you to check it out, if possible, and let the authors know what you think.**

**"The Epic Case of the Phantom of the Opera", read it - you won't be sorry.**


	9. Chapter 9

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

CHAPTER 9 – **Know Your Enemies **

"I think your designs are splendid, Marquis Laroque…I have not seen their equal…not for many years." Lord Haverty reported.

Erik gave a nod, acknowledging the man's complement. He had already been commissioned to design three new homes for these noblemen; and he was about to make it four.

He finished the deal with Ancel Haverty and shook the mans hand, "When would you like the designs sent to you?"

"As soon as possible...will you be overseeing the building yourself - or do you have a team that does that?" Haverty asked.

Erik smirked regally, "I have a team of experts at my disposal...when you have a parcel of land picked out...notify me and I will send them promptly."

Lord Ancel Haverty was the only man among the few that were in the room that he respected, as soon as he left - there would be none.

"Very good then, I will contact you."

Erik shook the man's strong hand and walked him to the door. He sighed loudly and turned around to observe the other men in the room. The conversations floated toward him.

"The war almost ruined me." Sir Guischard stated.

Erik was tired of their pious attitudes and the way they talked as though they had nothing to their names. Many of them had abandoned their people and country when war had broke out, allowing the Commune to set the new standards for everyone.

When Erik had arrived at Vassadelle ten years ago, the estate was in ill repair. His father and his shady friends - many of whom stood in the same room with him at this very moment - had run the family fortune into the ground and had buried the entire estate in debt.

Erik could hear them whispering among themselves, degrading him with their eyes and words. He smirked to himself; every one of them underestimated him and the abilities he possessed. None of them knew it was he who had slipped into their opulent estates and taken back what belonged to the people of France - and not their already over stocked estates.

Fourteen years in the Persian court and prisons had taught him to disguise his interest and his presence. They all assumed he was preoccupied with making money – when, in fact, he had all the money he would ever need.

His real focus was keeping these men at arms length – every one of them had lied, cheated, stolen, and murdered to make their mark. He knew they wore masks of their own and pretendrf to like him; but he knew that their loyalties rested with his father.

It was Erik's close friendship with the Duke, which earned most of the sideways glances and glaring stares; Erik's keen senses warned him that these men could not be trusted – especially where the Duke and he were concerned.

"My wife tells me that you have remarried, Laroque, I do hope this marriage works out better than the first."

Snickers of amusement filled the room, and Erik did not bother to turn and look at the speaker. Baron Manndeville was a cad, in every sense of the word, and Erik could not tolerate the man very well; but he was good practice for learning how to control his temper.

"He married the homely eldest daughter of the Delancy family of the Genes Region." Sir Guischard whispered; assuming incorrectly that Erik couldn't hear him. "It seems the Duke arranged it."

Baron Manndeville laughed aloud at that, "She is homely…all that black hair, dark eyes, and flesh…she's a hand full – in more ways than one."

Raucous laughter filled the room and Erik's fists clenched in rage.

"Tell me Laroque, what was it like bedding such a wench – all brains and bumps – but no beauty?"

Erik stood before them with his arms across his chest and a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Gentleman – and I use that term loosely – this line of questioning is not worthy of my retort…" he smirked sardonically, "…what I do – or don't do – with or to my wife is none of your concern. If you are too blind to see the beauty she possesses than that just goes to prove that my opinion of each of you is well-earned."

Each man fidgeted profusely and Erik resisted the need to laugh and roll his eyes.

"Is it true, Marquis, that you designed a palace in Persia?" Count de Vasser asked, swallowing hard to hide his unease.

Erik could tell the simpleton didn't really have an interest in such things; Erik deduced that the man had little interest in anything unless it involved very young, and very innocent women; and, if rumors were to be trusted, young boys.

"I did…" Erik stated, finally turning to look at his colleagues "…however, it was not used as a palace once it was completed."

"Really…" the count replied, "….fascinating; what was it used for?"

A scathing grin spread across Erik's shadowed features, "A torture chamber."

The room grew deathly quiet and Erik could almost hear their minds trying to grasp what he had just told them.

"A torture chamber?" The youngest man in the group asked with a scoffing laugh, "Whatever would they need a torture chamber for?"

Erik's tall, predatory figure gracefully descended on the young man, causing his heart to leap into his throat and a small, frightened, almost inaudible whimper to escape his lips. Erik's smooth, magisterial baritone filled the room.

"Boy, have you ever faced anything more dangerous than the scowl on your father's face?"

His eyes drilled into the young man's features; noting everything in his fresh-faced, handsome appearance that he would never have. This boy had seen no honest challenge in his life – he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

"I won't violate your delicate ears with details, but I've seen and done things that would make you recoil in horror." His stare was lurid and hard as granite, "The Sultana would have eaten you up and spit you out - I dare say she was more of a man than you are."

They had heard of the scars this man possessed, both physically and mentally. The Marquis was a man to have on your side, because the alternative meant that he was your enemy; and everyone knew what he did to his enemies.

They all centered their focus on Erik and noticed that he was looking at his pocket watch, "Gentleman, to say this has been enjoyable would be a lie… so I will simply bid you ado." He bowed, retrieved his hat and coat, and proceeded out the door.

ЖЖ

He was livid from head to foot. His instincts demanded that he rip each insolent man apart with his bear hands; a task Erik could easily carry out if he were asked to; but his control was very dear to him.

He didn't even care that he hadn't closed but four deals; he was making a great deal of money by designing homes for the uppity nobles and their snooty families.

Kaveh had left a week and half ago; right before Erik had married Christine. Erik had sent him to Paris to sell some music, operas, arias – anything they demanded of the renowned composer, M.E. Fantôme; there was no doubt, Erik's music was, by far, the most sought after thing in all of Europe.

There were places in his music and lyrics that skated on the edge of decency, and Erik thrived on it. He knew nothing about the act of making love on a personal level, but from an artist's point of view, he felt his way through it and it manifested itself in his music and his art.

Erik settled into the bathtub and soaked away the aches that seemed always to be with him. The torture and drugs he had endured in Persia had left lasting impressions on his body, inside and out.

To look at him, one would ascertain that he was the perfect specimen…lean muscles lined his front torso as well as the back; his toned arms and legs did not fully divulge the total strength and power that he possessed.

Erik had never given much thought to the shape his body was in while he existed in the darkness of Persia, but he had children now, and he longed to know what the future held. He was not certain how much of his life had been stolen from him by the Sultana and her wicked ways.

His mind left the wickedness of Persia behind and dwelled on the image of his new bride. Regardless of his control, Erik found himself reacting to her on a very physical level; and that was a disturbing discovery.

He could not and would not allow himself to get lost in her; she would never accept him…especially after being forced to marry him. What a pity, for he truly wanted to see her eyes light up at the sight of him and see a smile grace those sweet lips.

Tomorrow he would be on his way to visit the Duke and give him the latest on his monitory victories, and to update him on the opera he had demanded that Erik compose.

ЖЖ

Erik was entertaining his friend by pretending to lose at a game of billiards; Sergei wasn't particularly good at the game, but Erik humored him.

"Something different, Erik…I'm getting tired of the same old story line." Sergei said, hitting the 7 ball toward the pocket, but missing terribly.

Erik chuckled at his words, but there was a hint of sarcasm in his tone, "Sergei, you know that operas are all about tragedy and love, betrayal and murder – undoubtedly, all the wonderful things that make life worth the living."

Sergei painfully grimaced at the mention of betrayal and murder; two unfortunate side effects of love in the noble ranks. He grimaced again, as Erik sank the 14 in the right side pocket with no effort.

"I want the hero to be slightly unsavory and definitely not perfect…and the object of his affection needs to be young and innocent, not totally aware of who or what he is…oblivious to his faults but attracted to his darkness – do you understand what I mean?"

Erik smirked at Sergei's description, "So you want him to be like me."

Sergei put his finger to his lips and thought for a moment before smiling knowingly, "Yes; that would be perfect."

Erik shook his head and peered through lowered eyelids at the man that had become a very close friend in a matter of a short time, "You're a sick man, Sergei."

"I am aware of that - but I have been called worse."

"I've no doubt of that."

Sergei was one the few people in his life that Erik felt comfortable being around. In the year following his return from Persia, Sergei had given Erik the time he needed to adjust to his new surroundings, and had done what he could for the physical and mental anguish Erik had been through in his life.

His recovery had been almost as much torment as the years of drug abuse and torture had been; but Erik had proven to be everything the Sergei had needed him to be, and more.

"I don't care that you put your pseudonym on this new opera or not, but I do wish you would let the world know that it is you who writes these wonderful operas and musical scores." Sergei chastised.

Erik shrugged his broad shoulders and sighed, "It doesn't matter, Sergei, as long as the music and operas are appreciated and I make the commission off of them, I am certainly willing to avoid the public eye."

"You'd have women begging you to court them, and even more begging to be taken to your bed." Sergei teased, "It would be a veritable smorgasbord for a young man such as you."

Erik chuckled, and squinted at his friend, "I never realized how demented you really were until this very moment." He continued with his jovial manner, but Sergei sensed a touch of sadness in his tone, "I've never meant a woman willing to have anything more than friendship with me."

Sergei scoffed at Erik's words, but said nothing – they had had this conversation many times. Although Erik was comfortable with himself, he did not think others were or ever would be…especially a woman.

"I know that you have the same desires and needs as any other man, Erik…how do you cope with them if you are unwilling to resort to purchasing release?" Sergei marveled.

Erik stood tall and proud before answering, "I put those desires and passions into my music and art…that is what sustains me."

Erik leaned over and sank the last of his striped balls and then dropped the 8 ball in the upper left pocket. He could bare it no longer and had to end the misery.

Sergei stood shocked beside the table and arched his eyebrow at a smirking Erik, "I thought you were going to let me win?"

Erik laughed aloud, realizing that Sergei had known along that he was letting him win, "You knew this, and you still let me purposefully lose?"

"It feels better to win." Sergei shrugged.

"I must be leaving Sergei; I need to pick up my sister-in-law and her daughter. They are going to be living with us." Erik announced as the gathered his things.

"How is the new bride, Erik?"

"Beautiful…and distracting." Erik replied thoughtfully

"And this is a bad thing?"

"Not a bad thing, just an unexpected one…I don't need this, Sergei; you know that." Erik sighed, "The last woman I was attracted to ripped my heart out, cut it to pieces, held it over open flames, and then stood over me – laughing while I bled to death."

"That's a bit overdramatic, don't you think?" Sergei stated with a smile. "She was a she-devil Erik, I knew this…but I had no idea she would consort with Pascal the way she did."

"I know, my friend…I know."

ЖЖ

Erik lingered with Sergei another day before heading to Verne to retrieve Bethany and Giorgia. He had not told his new wife that he was picking them up; in fact, he hadn't told her he was leaving…but that didn't really matter – it wasn't like she would miss him.

After retrieving Bethany and Giorgia, Erik intercepted Kaveh at the train station and they rode the rest of the way by carriage.

Erik had not seen Kaveh so taken with a woman since he lost his wife. Bethany seemed equally besotted with him and little Giorgia was just happy to see her mother smile again.

TBC

**Thank you to all who found, "The Epic Case of the Phantom of the Opera", and gave it a read. I know that it is not everyone's cup of tea, but the story is amusing and well-researched. We can all use a little imagination in our lives - and this story is certainly full of it! It is the first time-travel fic that I have actually enjoyed!**


	10. Chapter 10

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

CHAPTER 10 – **Making a house a home**

Christine was certain he would throw a fit when he returned. She had spent the last two weeks "remodeling" many areas in the large castle-like structure she called home.

She had ordered drapes for both parlors and drawing rooms; the dark, burdensome colors that had been the original choice were far too dreary and only made one feel as though they were descending into an ominous pit of despair upon entering.

She stood back, after hanging the last set, and assessed the difference in the ambiance of the room. The bright rays of the sun shined into the room and draped it in shades of yellow and orange; far better than the dull, shadowed gray, that had shrouded the room previously.

A smile played about her lips and she lifted Kamilla into her arms, loving the fact that Erik's daughter had wanted to help "improve" the looks of her home and assisted Christine in hanging the drapes.

She had learned the routine of the estate, knowing that Kamilla took a ride every morning; the wet nurse fed Timmy every six hours; but after that, Christine could play with him and make him giggle. She worked in the garden, tilled the ground and got it ready for planting in the spring, and she played the piano in the conservatory and found that Kamilla also played.

Toward the end of the two weeks, she was missing her family terribly, and was finding the lack of stimulating conversation, unbearable. She had developed a very close relationship with Kamilla, and found her positively endearing; the child was highly intelligent, but she was still a child. Christine craved adult companionship.

It was late on Saturday night, Christine had been married two days shy of three weeks, and she finally saw her husband's carriage coming up the driveway. He had been gone a couple of days longer than he had thought, and she was eager to renew her hatred of him.

"Welcome home, my lord." Mr. Lumpkin stated with a bow. "Should I turn down your bed or repack your bags?"

Erik caught the humor on James's face and in his tone and answered in like manner, "Multiple choice, wow I am completely at a loss...let's see...I'd say turn down the bed."

His voice carried up the stairs and Christine surpressed a giggle at the his lighthearted bantering; even in jest, his voice was intoxicatingly beautiful.

"This is Madam Bethany Clarkson, and her daughter, Giorgia Clarkson. They are Christine's sister and niece." Erik announced.

Her sister's polite tone was barely audible, but Christine knew it was her. She practically ran down the stairs and flung herself into her sister's arms.

" Bethany!" She cried, holding her tightly for a few seconds and then moving on to grasp Giorgia in her arms. "I am so happy to see you both!"

Bethany smiled brightly, something she hadn't done for quite some time; hardly at all since Stuart had died.

"What are you doing here?" Christine asked as she pulled Giorgia into a big hug.

"The Marquis has been gracious enough to offer us residence at Vassadelle, he wants you to have companionship, and he knows that Stuart left us penniless…so here we are."

Christine turned to acknowledge Erik, but found that he had quietly left the scene. She looked down the hall, but did not see him anywhere.

His offer to Bethany was a complete surprise; Christine never expected him to act in such a way.

"Come Madam, we can't very well have you setting up camp in the reception hall, now can we; let me show you lovely ladies to your room." James stated with a wink, and indicated for them both to follow him.

It didn't take long for Giorgia and Kamilla to become instant best friends and the two girls were giggling up and down the halls, playing hide-and-go-seek.

Erik had mysteriously disappeared again and Christine felt oddly bereft of his presence. She hadn't even spoken to him since he had been back.

It ended up being another week before she saw him; and then, it was quite by accident as he came through the door of the library and into the hall, almost landing her flat on the floor.

"My lady, I'm terribly sorry…I didn't know you were there." He murmured, catching her in his strong arms before she hit the floor.

"Erik…I…" she looked into his concerned eyes and was taken aback at their beauty. She had seen his eyes before, but they held a certain glow in the faint lighting that set her heart racing.

"Yes…?" He said as he put her to her feet and made sure she was steady.

"I will speak to you of other matters later, but I wanted to thank you for bringing Bethany and Giorgia." Christine didn't buckle under his stare, but kept her footing steady and unmoving.

Erik heard the acid in her tone, but couldn't quite determine why she was so upset. He had left her alone, wasn't that what she wanted?

Christine tried not to notice the curve of his lips and the hard, masculine lines of his visible features. He was achingly handsome, but it seemed he had no knowledge of this.

"You're welcome." He stated simply; not knowing what else to say. He brushed past her without looking back and headed down the hall.

Christine sensed a distant pain in him that seemed to keep him at arms length. He didn't seem in a rush to get to know her; in fact, he acted as though she had no affect on him at all.

"Are you always this distant…" Christine asked, a bit perturbed by his lack of interest in her. "…or do you reserve it just for me?"

He had turned back to look at her and after hearing her accusative words, a frown had creased his forehead, "I beg your pardon?"

Christine stalked toward him with patronizing steps, "You scurry off as soon as we are wed to do heaven knows what with heaven knows who, and leave me here with no precept of how to run a house, let alone a castle…and you think I am not entitled to be a bit gruff?"

A fire burned in Erik's eyes, but the flame only made him that much more attractive, "Look, my lady…" he began, but then he shook his head, closed his eyes, and steadied his ire, "…no…I am not doing this…not now."

He turned and strode from her; she stood and watched his retreating form for several seconds before letting out a loud huff, flinging her skirt around, and heading back to her room.

Later that evening, she expected to see him at the dinner table, but was disappointed once again. Bethany, Giorgia, Kamilla, and Christine ate their meal while talking about numerous subjects, but all went silent when Pascal Laroque walked into the room.

He cornered Christine with his gaze and walked straight up to her, not caring that the children were present, as well as her sister.

He bent over and Christine felt his hot, putrid breath on the back of her neck. He was breathing in her scent and she could feel the warmth of his hand just a few centimeters from her shoulder.

"You'll soon find, my dear, that what Erik takes as his..." he licked his lips and the sound repulsed her, "…comes through me…first."

He didn't touch her, but her skin crawled as though he had. He moved past her and sat down at the other end of the table; but she felt his eyes on her the whole time.

ЖЖ

"What was that all about?" Bethany asked, feeling a chill go up her spine as she remembered what she had witnessed earlier.

Christine was nauseous and trembling from head to foot. Erik's father had never been so forward, but she had known he watched her. Why had he suddenly become personal?

"I don't know…I think I'm going to be sick."

They sat down in the drawing room and watched the girls play and Christine held Timotheus.

"You need to talk to Erik, Christine…he needs to know that his father is being forward and vulgar with you."

Christine shook her head, "I've barely talked to him since we've been married, Beth…I am having a hard time dealing with the circumstances of this marriage and we have barely said a civil word to each other."

"You're his wife Christine, your favors should grant you the right to talk to him anytime and about anything you wish…he seems to be a wonderful man."

"My favors?" Christine asked.

Beth examined her sister's animated features and realized she had no idea what she was talking about – at all.

"Yes, Christine, favors…you know… the marriage bed." Bethany hinted.

Christine had never talked about Erik with Beth, they always played cards or the piano and violin; but he had never been discussed.

"He's never claimed his husbandly rights." Christine whispered.

"WHAT!" Beth exclaimed. "He hasn't touched you?"

Christine shook her head and felt tears coming to her eyes. "Most of the time, he seems to have no interest…but every now and then, I catch a glint in his eyes that tells me that he is."

Bethany pulled away from in complete shock her mind was seeking answers, but only came up with one conclusion.

"Does he prefer his own sex?"

Christine gasped at the insinuation, "Absolutely not…Beth…how could you suggest such a thing!"

Beth shrugged her shoulders and smirked, "Well…what else is there?"

"He has two children by a previous marriage, you dolt…that means the problem is me."

"It's not you, Christine…you're beautiful."

Erik apparently didn't think so and Christine wanted answers. Her infamous temper and strong will were being rattled again and she found herself at a boiling point.

_Two days later… _

She was still perturbed that he had left her to her own vices and gone on a business trip the day they were married, so she hunted him down; then, this whole fiasco with his father had her nerves on edge.

She found him in the parlor talking to a strange, dark-skinned man. She had caught a glimpse of him the night Erik had come home, but he had disappeared soon after. Erik looked up as she knocked on the door, and they both stood as she entered the room.

"My lady, I would like to introduce my dearest and oldest friend, Kaveh Hushmand."

Kaveh bowed and took his hand to his lips for a kiss, "Delighted, my lady."

Christine curtsied and smiled at him. He was a very attractive man, with dark eyes, and dark skin. He looked to be older than Erik but not by a great deal; and he was shorter by about four inches.

"May I see you in the drawing room, my lord?" She asked.

He inclined his head toward her and dropped his eyes, "Certainly." He looked towards Kaveh, "Excuse me."

He followed her; uncertain of what it was she wished to speak with him about. He swept through the door behind her and turned to close it, certain he could cut the animosity in the air with a knife.

He had barely turned to face her when she seethed at him through clenched teeth, "How dare you."

His brow lifted and a confused, stunned look covered his visible features.

"Don't think for an inkling of a minute that I am pleased to be here, my lord…for that would be a great miscalculation on your part." She spat at him, "I was perfectly happy living with my parents and helping my father with his business…I don't need a man to give me worth or make me feel beautiful…I know I'm not beautiful…" her voice teetered off and she suddenly dropped her eyes, "…but that has never mattered…until I met you."

Erik listened intently to her, but was at a loss for words. No woman had verbally jousted with him before, and he found it exhilarating; but why would she think herself not beautiful and why did it matter only because of him?

"I despise you…" She shouted. "…I despise the fact that you used your title and riches to obtain my hand in marriage; I despise the fact that you care not what you do to the lives of others, just as long as you get what you want…if you thought I was plain, why did you marry me?"

Erik was surprised, to say the least. He had not expected such frankness from her; she was as spirited and bold as he had suspected. She obviously was under the impression he had coerced her into this marriage and nothing he said would change that.

He fought the urge to buckle under her hatred and responded bleakly, "You're hatred and revulsion are understood…."

She raised her chin in defiance and stared into his incomparable eyes, "What?"

"…they are the only reactions I seem to stir in the hearts of women…"

He said it with such conviction, that she almost allowed her curiosity to get the better of her, but refused to give in. He had fathered children, so he had been more to a woman than just hatred and revulsion; he was only seeking sympathy. If he didn't find her plain, why hadn't he tried to kiss her, at least?

"…and I hardly think you plain – although why you should care what I think is beyond me." Erik finished, pulling Christine from her thoughts.

She ignored his last comment, certain that he was just feeding her the words she longed to hear, "I will give my attention and love to the children, as that seems to be the main reason behind my being here, but do not expect anything from me, my lord…nothing at all. Bringing my sister and niece here does not mean that I owe you anything."

Erik was not allowed a retort, for Kamilla had heard his voice and was pounding frantically on the door. He bowed as Christine turned toward the door and allowed Kamilla to enter.

This man, whom people feared and respected, seemed fearful of her – at least it appeared that way. Why did he not grow irritated with her bold ways and wagging tongue? Most husbands would have turned her over their knee by now, given her backside a few swipes, and scolded her for being such a shrew….he never even raised his voice.

"Papa!" She squealed.

"How's my princess?" Erik asked, scooping her up into his arms and twirling her around.

"I've missed you terribly." She pouted, hugging his neck as though he would disappear from her again.

Christine had thought to leave, but was captured by the enticing sound of his laughter. He was an entirely different man when it came to his children; she found that strangely alluring and sexy.

'He must have loved Nicholle very much…' she thought, shocked at the shard of jealousy that stabbed her heart. '…the only love he seems to show is toward the children she gave him.'

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

CHAPTER 11 

Several days passed without event, and Christine hardly saw Erik except from a distance. He seemed to avoid her and the only times she really saw him was when he was atop his magnificent stallion with his black cape flying ominously behind him like the dark wings of a raven.

He seldom spoke to her, but she would catch his sultry eyes on her at times, only for him to whip them away when he realized she had seen him.

The process began to grow wearisome and Christine longed to know the mystery of Erik. She wanted to know everything that made him the confident and commanding figure that he was to those who knew him, and the wonderful father that he was to his children.

Beth was a godsend during these days and helped Christine to realize there was more to Erik than he wanted her to see…the glimpses of this man were getting easier to see, especially when he was interacting with the children.

She had watched him earlier, while he quietly helped James's elderly father down from the carriage in which he had come to visit; he didn't seem to care that there were servants that could have done it, he did it without pretext.

Was this the same man the servants whispered about in the quiet of the evening hours…was this the same man whose legendary skills with weapons, such as the Punjab lasso and knives, caused trembling among the hearts of many nobles and criminals throughout Europe?

Many spoke of his stone exterior and terrible temper and none wished to cross him. He tolerated few people and had yet to attend any of the royal functions the Duke had invited him to attend.

However, his children worshipped him and his eyes held such warmth, even if they were full of pain and cloaked in shadow. His smile, though reserved and strained, spoke of gentleness and the desire to be accepted.

He was a mystery in many ways, and she was ready to unravel him – one masculine strand at a time.

Today, he had left early on the back of his Arabian steed, Drago. He always managed to look pristine and perfect…his black hair slicked back and flat against his head; his clothing crisp and expensively designed; and his white mask soundly placed against the flesh of his face.

It was now early evening, and the sun had set minutes ago. Christine wandered in the gardens, as the weather was starting to warm a little, and the evening breeze was only slightly chilled.

She had talked with the gardener for a few minutes before he headed to his cottage for the night. He had been gone about twenty minutes before Christine decided to head back toward the house.

She pulled her shawl further over her shoulders and moved from the bench. She halted suddenly when an eerie feeling came over her; she was not alone.

Christine looked about, but nothing caught her attention; the night sky shielded many things from her vision, but she could still feel the prickly eyes of lust and hatred upon her.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to calm her racing heart before panic made her lose her edge.

She felt the hard, rough surface of a large oak tree behind her and pushed against it for support, but the same tree trapped her as strong arms came around her and pinned her against it.

"I warned you, whore…that demon can have nothing to himself…everything was mine before he took it from me…you will be mine, for he will never be man enough to have you."

Christine went cold as ice as she recognized Pascal's sniveling voice. Tears stung her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks as she realized he could rape her and no one would be the wiser.

"He's not worthy of a willing bride - even one as plain as you are." He spat and landed a fist across her cheek, cracking her lip open.

His hot, acrid breath sickened her as his rough, foul mouth took hers. She tried pushing him away from her, but her struggles only intensified his lust to control her.

"Keep fighting, you are only adding fuel to the fire, my sweet…." He ripped the front of her dress and groped her breasts with one hand while gripping the tree firmly with the other.

"...let a real man show you what a woman is for…" he hissed as his mouth closed over her exposed breast.

Christine screamed as he violated her body, but she knew the wind carried her screams away from the house.

Suddenly, Pascal relinquished his hold on her and screamed. Christine wasted no time moving away from him and watching him writhe in pain.

His hand was pinned to the trunk of the tree by an expertly thrown knife; another knife was lodged securely in his shin.

A dark, graceful figure made its way toward the sniveling man and Christine realized it was Erik; he had saved her.

"Erik! Free me at once….you have no right to do this to me!" Pascal whined, "You can't escape me…you beast…you aren't worthy to hold the title and estate….you have the blood of witches in your veins…"

Pascal's words pierced his heart, but Erik was not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was rattled.

"You're my son….you are just like me…" Pascal tried a different tactic to get his attention.

Erik had turned from him to gather Christine in his arms and carry her to the house; but Pascal's statement stopped him.

He turned and pinned his heated eyes on the man he could no longer tolerate.

His voice was strong and determined as he spoke, "I will never be like you."

Erik turned his back on his father and approached Christine. She collapsed in his arms as he removed his cape, draped it over her trembling shoulders, and exposed breasts.

He carried her silently into the house, averting his eyes from her creamy flesh. He was certain she did not wish to face his ugliness and certainly not his lust, so he just held her gently but firmly to him as he carried her.

ЖЖ

He went through the front door and James immediately lost all the color in his face.

"My lord, what happened?" James gasped.

"You need to tend to your former master, he seems to have a kinfe wedged into his hand, and another in his shin; just follow the screams." Came the cold reply

James needed no more of an explanation. He nodded and removed himself to do Erik's bidding.

Erik strode up the stairs and was glad when Beth opened the door to her apartment and saw Christine in his arms.

"She needs a warm bath and a woman's touch…please make sure she is alright." Erik instructed, "I will take care of my father – once and for all."

He placed Christine on the bed in her quarters, nodded to Beth, and left without another word.

It was a couple of hours before Christine calmed down enough to tell Beth what had happened. Beth cried with her and they were both thankful that Erik had shown up when he had.

"I saw him, Beth…just a glimpse of him." Christine uttered.

"Who?" Beth asked, confused about whom it was she spoke.

"The man that everyone fears…Erik the legend…" Christine elaborated, "…But I don't fear him at all…he makes me feel safer than I have ever felt."

Beth tucked her sister into bed and sat with her for a little while until she peacefully slept.

ЖЖ

No one dared step in his way as he pounded his way down the hall toward the tower. Once he had assured Christine's safety and handed her over to Beth, he had hunted Pascal down, lassoed him, and dragged his bleeding form to the secluded tower on the far, east end of the house and locked him up.

"You can't do this…I'll die out here." Pascal pleaded.

He spit expletives at Erik with every breath as he was hauled, unceremoniously, from the front door to the holding room.

"Death would be too easy for you…I have something more effective in mind for you." Erik whispered, menacingly.

He slammed the door shut and locked it behind him, as he heard Pascal scream once again.

"Don't let him out, or you'll suffer the same punishment he does, understood?"

The young guard shook his head vigorously; he knew his master would carry through on anything he promised.

"I will have his meals delivered promptly, three times a day, he will be stripped soaped, and washed down once a day, and he is to remain in this cell until I return in a week's time." Erik instructed, "You will answer to Mr. Hushmand in my absence."

Erik strode from the tower and headed back into the main manor house. He would pay Sergei another visit and the problem with his father would be solved, finally.

ЖЖ

The next morning dawned bright, but Christine was still shaken, and she did not stir from the bed until late morning.

She finally got up and dressed, but could not find the courage to leave her room; she feared Pascal was waiting in the wings to accost her again.

She heard a knock on the door and Beth spoke softly to her from the other side. Christine opened the door and smiled tentatively at Beth and Giorgia.

"Come on, Christine, Erik has him locked up on the far tower. He won't be getting out at all until Erik decides what to do with him."

She finally left her apartment and managed to make it through the morning without much difficulty.

Erik was nowhere to be found, but James assured her he was on the grounds, tending to some business matters.

"He will be leaving in the morning, my lady." James stated."He wanted to make sure you were going to be alright before he left."

Christine hoped that she had a chance to thank him before he left. "When will he return?"

"One week…that is what he said."

James smiled and left her standing on the terrace; it was a cool spring morning, and Christine loved the sound of the birds chirping and the smell of the dewy mist as it landed on the blooming tulips.

She reclined on the settee, reading the remaining chapters of her book until she saw Erik riding toward the estate.

She immediately noticed the difference in him; he wore a plain white shirt – open to reveal the dark spray of hair across his muscular chest; black, form-fitting riding breeches, black, knee-high leather boots, black leather gloves, and no cape.

His normally slicked back hair was loose and framed his features in soft waves. He was even more breathtaking in disarray than he was when his appearance was just shy of perfection; and that was saying a great deal.

He exuded raw, sexual power, and it was obvious that he had no idea how attractive he was. He was confident and sure in everything he did, but Christine could tell that his appearance was one thing about himself that he hated.

As he closed the distance between them, she could see his eyes as they took in her appearance.

His turbulent eyes were bluish-green today – resembling the sea after a storm, and they showed a great deal of concern for her as he coaxed Drago to a stop in front of her; she also noticed that he rode bareback.

He gracefully dismounted and tied the horse to the column. He had dropped his eyes when she looked at him, and he had not gazed at her since.

"What are you reading?" he asked, finally raising his eyes to hers.

"Jane Eyre." She responded with a smile. "But I am almost finished and will be finding another book."

What did you have in mind?"

She continued to smile at him, and Erik had not realized how sensual her mouth was until that very moment - even with the bruising.

"I don't suppose you have anything by Jane Austen?"

She had wanted to read _Pride and Prejudice_ for several years, but had never had the opportunity.

Erik smirked at the insinuation that he didn't appreciate the feminine storylines, "I do…I'm honored to have every book she wrote."

Christine had not expected him to fancy such "female frivolity" has her father called it. Gustav had a hard time with romantic notion and Teresa, Christine's mother, had spent the last few years wondering where his romantic bone had been buried – she blamed the dog.

She gave him a teasing smile, which caused his heart to surprisingly spring to life. Erik had never had this reaction to a woman before. Although he called what he had felt for Nicholle love, it was a dead, cold love born out of respect for her gender, more than anything.

"I…" Christine began.

"I am sorry, Christine….if I hadn't come about when I did…" Erik injected.

He chanced looking at her as he spoke and noticed how the sunshine danced on her ivory skin and made the blue/black in her hair come forth even more.

Erik couldn't help but brush his eyes over her tall but generously curved body as she rested on the settee. She was a beautiful woman; not in a picturesque way, like Nicholle, but in a natural, subtle way.

Where Nicholle had been short and delicately built, Christine was tall and full-figured. She had an ample bosom, child-bearing hips, and curves in all the right places.

Erik cleared his throat, and shifted his weight, as he tried not to show the uncomfortable swell of his body as it constantly reminded him of his masculine desires.

"Please, sit." She insisted.

Erik was surprised by her offer, but he gingerly sat down next to her as she moved her legs and sat up.

Erik tried to smile, but he found her nearness rendered him a complete imbecile, "I came to apologize for my abhorrent behavior the past few weeks."

Christine creased her brow, but said nothing as he continued, "I have little experience in relationships, especially in regard to women." His rang his hands together and tried to smile again, "I knew you were not fond of being in my presence, and I knew that you could handle anything that presented itself - your intelligence is quite astounding."

She smiled in the warmth of his compliment and absently rubbed her wrist where Pascal had held her hand, the bruised skin had almost healed, but the faint coloring was still visible.

Erik reached over and took her hand in his, not realizing the intimacy of the gesture. His forehead creased and his eyes grew dark, "My father has never done something as retched as what he tried to do to you…I am truly sorry."

Christine shivered from the memory of Pascal's hands and mouth on her; all she had felt like doing was regurgitating; but the feel of Erik's hand on hers was quickly removing all negative thoughts from her brain.

He stood elegantly and pulled his shirt out of his pants; he hoped to hide the prominent bulge that persisted, even after he mentally berated himself.

He had seen her shiver and was not certain whether she feared and despised him or was recalling last night's events; either way, it was time he left her alone.

He bowed and headed back toward Drago, "I hope in time that you will be able to tolerate me…I would very much like to get to know you, I understand that you play the piano, the violin, and sing…I would love the honor of hearing you."

She stood, walked over to him, and placed her hand upon his arm to halt him, "My lord, your father…"

His eyes fixed on the hand she put to his arm; it awakened the need in him – the need for the touch of a woman. His heart raced and he cleared his throat; he had to get some control.

"I will take care of it…" He quickly interceded, but his tone softened when he noticed her concerned look, "…I assure you."

He dropped his eyes to her full mouth, and abruptly caught himself before making a complete fool of himself.

"I am thankful he didn't hurt you any more than he did…but I am sorry you had to experience it in the first place." His eyes searched her features for any sign that his father had hurt her in other ways. "Are you going to be alright?"

She was frowning at him, and she frowned even more when her eyes rested on his mask. Erik wondered how long it would be before she ripped it from him just to satisfy her own curiosity.

"Thank you for showing up when you did." She whispered. "And for carrying me to the manor."

They stood there facing each other; Drago waited patiently in the background for his master to reach him.

"I am thankful that I showed up when I did, too." Erik repeated. "And you're welcome."

Christine smiled, but there was a tremble in her lips; it was apparent that she was terrified; he only prayed she was not terrifed of him.

Her eyes once again focused on his mask; when she noticed his wounded eyes, she blushed and looked away.

He tried to lighten the heavy air that had settled around them with a quiet chuckle, "I know…the mask is terrifying..." He jaunted, "…but trust me when I say it is far better than what lies beneath it."

Christine was horrified; she had not meant to stare. The mask actually added more mystery to him…if that was possible. She hadn't intended to make him uncomfortable.

"I apologize…it's just that I have never seen someone who wears a mask all the time."

It was a fair enough evaluation, and she hadn't given into the overwhelming urge to rid him of it; things were already better than they had been with Nicholle.

"I've lived with this for as long as I can remember, but I realize that I am far from any woman's ideal man." His voice was light and his tone was unpretentious; he actually smiled slightly, as he spoke; but that almost smile held a sadness that Christine had never seen.

A curly strand of her raven hair had fallen in front of her eyes, and Erik reached his hand out to tuck it behind her ear; Christine could see the change in him as soon as he realized what he had been about to do.

He immediately pulled his hand back and dropped it into his side, "Perhaps, in time, you and I could be friends – I find that I enjoy being within the embrace of your beauty…" he stood, but kept his eyes on her, "…would that it could transform me into something beautiful."

His full mouth curved slightly into a sad smile, and his vivid eyes appeared to be a deep green in the light of the day; Christine had realized how they changed color with his moods.

'He finds me beautiful.' Christine thought as an appreciative smile curved her mouth.

Oddly, his next words burnished a spot on her heart and left her crestfallen.

"I assure you, my lady, I will not be asking anything of you…as a husband…I merely ask that you converse with me and give me the honor of hearing you sing and play, if that would be alright with you…" He dropped his eyes again and mounted Drago, "…forgive me for taking up so much of your time….good day, my lady."

Christine blinked, and he was gone 

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

CHAPTER 12 – **The Sins of the Father **

Sleep did not come easily for Christine that night. She felt the grip of fear as it tried to dominate her body; but she refused to feel victimized.

When all was in focus, she felt nothing but seething hatred for Pascal. He had deliberately set his sights on her even though she knew he found her plain - she was Erik's wife, and he didn't want Erik to have anything.

She could still feel his hands and mouth upon her flesh hours after she had stepped from the bath. Would she ever get the stench of him and the revolting feel of his clammy hands off her?

And what about Erik? He had shown up like a brave knight, stepping out of the shadows to save his woman. Every day that passed, she felt more and more attracted to him; but she still knew very little about him.

The romantic within her was disappointed that he had been married to her for almost two months, and had not tried to kiss her; or anything else, for that matter.

Perhaps he felt as most other men did, and found her love of reading and other academic subjects intimidating and unladylike; but he had encouraged her to pursue her interests. Nothing made any sense.

There were certain phrases he made and words he said that told Christine he thought himself repulsive to women, although he seemed confident and self assured in his life otherwise.

The only reason she could come up with was the mask. Christine had already discerned that it hid some flaw on his face; perhaps a birth defect.

No matter what it was, she doubted it was any worse than what she had seen at the burn site last year. So many had lost their lives and those that had lived, were horribly scarred; but their families were just thankful to have them.

The church just up the road from her father's estate had burned down during an evening meeting. Many had been trapped inside and a few had managed to get out. There were many that perished in the flames and were beyond recognition, but there had been a few who survived with injuires ranging from minor flesh wounds to major burns.

The whole Delancy family had labored day and night to help those in need - whether it was food and water, or medical attention. Christine had never seen so much death and pain in her life; she hoped to never experience it again.

Erik had experienced much worse than she could dream of; his beautiful eyes were haunted, and she found that she wanted to see their radiant beauty without the pain that tainted them. She realized what little she knew about the man she had married.

The fact that he made her heart race with just a sweep of his eyes or a whisper of his voice disturbed her, in a way that sent her female hormones into overdrive.

She had found within him a man with character and principles; two things that many men were lacking, and being near him made her pulse quicken and her palms sweat.

Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, Christine drifted to sleep; but her normally innocent dreams were pleasantly disturbed by a man with arresting, troubled green eyes and chiseled, handsome features.

ЖЖ

Erik tossed and turned in his bed and found little comfort in the perfection of the mattress. He was out of his bed in a heartbeat when Timmy whimpered. He was in the room directly beneath Erik's room, and Erik could hear everything.

Erik pulled his robe on over his bare chest and sleeping pants and made his way down the stairs and into the tiny boy's room. Madam Forsythe was already there, but Erik instructed her to go back to bed and he would take care of Timmy.

"What is it little prince?" Erik cooed.

Timmy's nose was runny and he felt feverish, so Erik went into the washroom and obtained a soft towel and saturated it in cool water. He stripped Timmy down to his cloth diaper, took off his robe, and placed the infant at his shoulder. He covered Timmy's heated body with the cool towel and cradled him.

Christine's room was just down the hall from Timmy's and she drifted out of her dream state to hear the most alluring voice she had ever heard. She arose from her bed, slipped on her robe, and walked toward the heavenly voice.

_"Good evening, good night. With roses adorned, _

_With carnations covered, slip under the covers. _

_Early tomorrow, if God wills, you will wake once again. _

_Early tomorrow, if God wills, you will wake once again." _

She peered in the cracked door and felt tears creep down her cheek as she watched Erik silently walk the floor in nothing but his silk night pants and Timmy pressed against his chest, draped in a towel.

His voice sent warm sensations up her spine that shot straight to her inner core…she realized she wanted more than just conversation and musical exchanges from this man. She found the sight of him taking care of Timmy the most sexy and masculine thing she had ever seen.

_"Good evening, good night, by angels watched, _

_Who show you in your dream the Christ-Child's tree. _

_Sleep now peacefully and sweetly, look in dreams paradise. _

_Sleep now peacefully and sweetly, look in dreams paradise."_ (1)

Erik finished singing and examined his son; he was barely awake, and sucked furiously on his thumb, so Erik decided to sit in the rocking chair and hum quietly.

Christine felt as though she was invading on a very private moment, but she could not stop watching him…he was always so controlled and repressed.

She decided to make her presence known and gently tapped on the door as she went in. Erik looked up in a daze and smiled lightly at her.

"I think he has a cold." Erik stated in a shockingly sexy whisper.

"Would you like me to take over?" Christine asked, still tingling from the powerful pull of his voice.

The towel did not completely cover Erik's entire chest, and she saw tiny scars marring his beautiful skin. She knew that he had endured something awful in his life.

It was suddenly imperative that she learn more about him - she wasn't having any luck at hating him - so the only thing left to do was get to know him..

Erik shook his head and smiled again; but Christine noticed that the smile did not reach his eyes; they remained poignant and aloof.

Erik was fighting the desire he felt surge through him…unknown to her, she seduced him with every innocent move she made. Her gown did little to hide the generous curve of her breast or the soft sweep of her abdomen and hips.

"I'm only going to be here a few more minutes, I think he'll go back to sleep." Erik whispered and dropped his eyes before she became offended by his open interest.

Christine didn't move, but continued to listen to him hum and watch him rock his son to sleep. Once Timmy had been quiet for some time and the sucking had slowed to almost nothing, Erik gently stood and placed the sleeping baby in his crib. He pulled the quilt up and loosely covered him.

They both left the room quietly and Erik turned to go down the stairs to get a cup of warm milk. Christine didn't make a move to go anywhere, so he turned and asked,

"Christine, would you like a cup of warm milk…or perhaps some tea?"

She hadn't realized she held her breath in anticipation of his question, but after he asked she released it slowly, "Warm milk would be lovely, thank you."

She followed him to the kitchen, and noted how quietly and deftly he moved over the floor. He walked as though he had trained as a dancer, but she knew that grace and agility were what made him a deadly foe.

ЖЖ

Christine was fascinated by his movements and watching him prepare the warm milk was a very enjoyable experience. He whistled quietly as he prepared the milk and did not even glance at her once while he worked.

"Are Bethany and Giorgia adjusting well?" Erik asked as he sat down, across from her.

Christine nodded, "Yes, thank you for bringing them here."

Erik bowed his head and took a sip of his warm milk, "You've already thanked me."

Christine smiled shyly at his words and remembered she had thanked him, but she had been rather short and bitter at the time.

"She seems to have taken a liking to your dark friend, Kaveh." Christine added, with another smile.

Erik raised his perfectly carved brow and smirked, "It figures, Kaveh always did have a way with the women."

"You're not upset with this?"

A scowl creased his forehead, "Why would I be upset?"

Christine shrugged her shoulders, "She has been married before, and widowed, she is below his class – she has a six-year-old daughter."

"None of that matters, if they make each other happy." Erik murmured. "The distinction of the classes is ludicrous…one should be able to love whomever they wish." He stared deep into her eyes and continued, "I know that sounds hypocritical, coming from me."

He tried to lighten the despondency in his voice before he continued, "Love is something I know little to nothing about – whether it is the love of a parent or the love of a spouse – as you can tell, I have had neither."

He looked away, not wanting to see her relief at his next words, "…I do not expect your fidelity, Christine." He dropped his eyes and looked away from her, " I should have told you this much earlier…you are free to love whomever you choose; I only ask that you not bring him here, to my estate or on the estate grounds."

Her eyes shot up and made intense contact with his. There was no deceit in his eyes and she knew he was serious.

"Excuse me?" She asked, stunned beyond any other words.

He continued, almost as though he had not heard her, "My first wife was not discreet, she didn't care that I knew who she was having relations with…she deliberately set out to goad me…" He swallowed hard before going on, "…my father and she carried on under this roof for several weeks, before and after I married her."

A shocked, pained look crossed her features, "Oh dear!" she gasped.

He didn't even react to her words, "My father and she concocted this plan to regain the manor, and his title. He sent her to my bed; thinking I would easily surrender to her charms; considering I have never been with a woman."

His admission of this did not seem to bother him, he had accepted it a long time ago and had moved beyond it; but Christine was still shocked to actually hear it come from his mouth.

"I never touched her - even though I was attracted to her; but the next morning she claimed that I had raped her." Erik couldn't bring himself to look at her as he continued, "The accusation made it all the way to the ears of the Duke and I was brought before him. Even though she confessed to the deceit and admitted that she and my father planned the whole thing and I had not raped her, the damage had been done - I was forced to marry her to save my reputation."

Erik smiled sadly, "I later found out that no one believed her story and all knew her to be the fallen woman that I knew her to be."

He smiled sadly and finally lifted his eyes to hers. She was not looking at him with pity in her eyes, which he had expected, but she was looking at him with a blazing ember of indignation in her pearly black eyes.

"After a few failed attempts on my life, they gave up - and she continued to sleep with any man who would have her as my father had grown too old for her taste. She despised me, which I expected, but her promiscuity caused problems in many areas…she was my wife in name only...just as you are."

Christine was beginning to understand what he was inferring, "But the children…"

"…aren't mine, as least not by blood." He stated simply. "Kamilla is most likely my fathers and Timmy's father was the head horse trainer...at least we think he was the father." Christine caught her gasp in her throat before it had a chance to escape. Her eyes remained fixed on his stiff frame.

"I had once been attracted to her...but after what she did..." his voice dripped with malice, "...I had nothing left but emptiness; she's all I've ever known of love between a man and a woman." Erik looked away, but continued to speak, "I understand her having the affairs; anything is better than being with me…but she brought them here, in my home…that I could not accept."

He smiled despondently and returned his gaze to her, he could not read her thoughts, but there were tears in her eyes.

"I have never been with a woman Christine, I'm sure you understand why…but I felt you should know about the children and their mother, and know that you are free to take a lover, should you choose to." He stood up; having drank the last sip of his milk and bid her good night, "Would you like me to walk you to your room?"

She accepted his invitation to walk with her, and they slowly walked the halls. He walked with his hands tucked behind him and his eyes straight ahead, but as they reached her apartment, Erik bowed and took her hand to his soft lips.

"Thank you for the company…and rest assured, my lady…my father will not be bothering you again." He turned from her and headed back down the hall.

Once he was well on his way to his third floor sanctuary, Christine hurriedly returned to her room before giving into the angry tears she had been fighting to conceal.

"What a witch she was!" Christine spat as she paced the floor. "How could she do that to him?"

Christine had thought she misunderstood him at first, but he had given her the same choice that he had given Nicholle. He had told her he did not expect her to be faithful to him…he more than hinted for her have an affair.

"He thinks I'm no better than she was…he thinks no woman could ever desire him or desire to be a wife to him in every possible way…" her own voice comforted her as she grasped the reality of what he had been through.

She finally admitted to herself that she had never really hated him; it wasn't in her to be that shallow. There were so many scars on him, inside and out, that defined him as a victim in more ways than she would ever be.

Nicholle had never had his heart - his lustful male nature, yes - but never his heart. She had taught him that love was fickle and sought its own gain, caring nothing for those it hurt along the way.

However, Christine knew that love, true love, in no way resembled what Nicholle had shown him; maybe it was her duty to show him…she knew there was an irrefutable attraction she felt for him.

"Christine, you barely know him…" She tried to reason with her inner voice. "How can you possibly think that you are in love with him?"

Christine would have scoffed at that thought, but her mother's story of long ago echoed in her heart. She had married Gustav Delancy without setting eyes on him, but the minute his blue eyes had touched hers, Teresa was his…she loved him entirely and deeply.

Like mother, like daughter.

TBC

(1) The orignial Brahms Lullaby


	13. Chapter 13

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**Thank you for all the wonderful comments you are making about his story. I am pleased with the number of reviews and appreciate every comment that has been made.**

CHAPTER 13 – **Making Sense of it All**

Christine awakened to the sun gently caressing her cheek and she wondered what the light feeling was that she had in heart, and she realized it was love. She had admitted to herself that she was in love with her husband, whom she barely knew.

She bounced out of bed and put on a day dress. She quickly walked to the dining room for breakfast, hoping to see Erik first thing before he left.

She was too late; James said that he had left before the sun came up.

"He wanted me to tell, my lady, that should you have any problems with anything or _anyone,_ address them to Mr. Hushmand, he will take care of it while the Marquis is away."

Christine felt like crying. She had hoped to see him off as a proper wife should, but the chance had passed her by. She felt they had made some headway last night, but there was still so much she wanted to know about him and his past.

"How long will he be gone?" Christine asked, trying not to sound upset.

"I am not sure, my lady, a couple of weeks – give or take a day or two."

She frowned and walked away. She would just have to learn as much as she could about him in his absence – she had a whole house full of servants who have known him for some time and a friend who had known him for twenty years.

She would start there.

ЖЖ

Several days went by, and Christine wasn't having much luck with the servants. Many of them had only met him ten years ago, and Erik had already shared the events of those years with her.

She found Beth and Kaveh in the parlor, enjoying afternoon tea. They had been spending a great deal of time together and their relationship was quickly surpassing the "friendship" stage.

"Kaveh was about to tell me about his and Erik's years in Persia." Bethany announced as Christine entered the room and sat down.

He had been painting a verbal picture of the land he called home, and Bethany was enthralled…both by the land and the man.

"What do you want to know?" Kaveh asked.

His dark eyes sparkled with knowledge and a slight bit of trepidation, but he knew this needed to be done; Erik would never share these things with Christine, and she needed to know.

Bethany smiled into his dark eyes, loving the depth of their black middle; you couldn't tell where the pupil ended and the iris began.

"Christine said that Erik never speaks of Persia."

Kaveh thought for a few seconds and then lifted doleful eyes to Christine's expectant features.

"His memories of Persia are entirely different than mine." Kaveh stated, "He was a prisoner there…much like the ancient gladiators were prisoners, but were allowed certain advantages…he endured many years of suppression and torture."

Kaveh told them everything, although he tried to spare their delicate ears the goriness of Erik's inhumane treatment, he was not allowed to – Christine would not have it.

"The scars I saw on his chest and back the other night – how did he get them?"

Kaveh was surprised that Erik had allowed her to see them. He was very protective about his physical shape and the condition of his body. Christine offered an explanation when she saw the confusion on his face.

"It was late and Timmy was fussing – Erik had already managed most of the problem by the time I got to him. The child had a fever and Erik was rocking in the chair and had him over his bare shoulder wrapped in a cool towel."

"I am not sure that you want to hear what Erik has been through, my lady…it is most disturbing – on many levels."

"Will he be angry at you for telling me?" She asked with great concern.

Kaveh chuckled lightly, "No, just don't expect him to elaborate on anything."

He took the next hour to describe in detail what Erik had suffered at the hands of the Sultana and her minions. Christine sat quietly and listened, but tears poured down her face. She silently wept for the man she had grown to love very deeply and swore that if she ever had the chance, she would gladly take the life of the Sultana.

Kaveh saw the look of indignation on her face. He knew her feelings for Erik ran deep – but he had not known how deep until this very moment. He answered her unspoken question.

"Don't worry, my lady, she got her just rewards…think of the story of Jezebel in your Christian Bible – the sultana met with much the same end not three years after Erik escaped."

Christine smiled wickedly, wondering what had caused such a death.

"How did that happen?" she asked.

"Let's just say that her body was not recognizable – no one knows exactly what happened; and worse than that – or better, however you want to look at it – no one is interested in finding out."

Christine had much to reflect on and thanked Kaveh for his time. She excused herself and headed out the door, leaving them to further their attraction to each other.

"She will help Erik overcome everything." Beth stated.

Kaveh looked at her with a strangely dispassionate look on his face, "He doesn't need someone to help him overcome his past – he's done that. What he needs is someone to give him a future and make him realize he's worthy of one."

Beth leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder, "Whatever he needs, Christine will be that to him – she wants this more than anything I have ever seen – it's in her eyes and the way she moves."

"She has never asked anything about the mask – or why he wears it…it's really quite refreshing." Kaveh admitted.

Bethany shrugged and lifted her head to look into his ebony eyes, "Why should she, he's a very attractive man and it matters not what lies beneath it…he would still be an attractive man."

Kaveh nodded his head in agreement and pulled her to him, "Do I need to be jealous of your obvious appreciation of his physical beauty?" Kaveh teased, "I'm not sure I could win against him in a fair fight."

Beth playfully swatted his arm and gave him the kiss he had begged for, "Of course, you should always be aware of handsome men who catch my eye….but he belongs to Christine, whether he knows it or not." Beth had to ask, "Does he even find her attractive – he hasn't even tried to kiss her?"

Kaveh had suspected as much, Erik would never assume that his wife would invite his touch, so he would not offer it.

"Of course he finds her attractive, and I know this for a fact…" Kaveh assured her. "…but Erik has never been allowed –if you will excuse my forwardness – to be a man."

Beth scowled and waited for him to explain, "He was punished for every male desire or instinct he showed – he soon learned to squelch them – they have been dormant for many years."

"Christine won't let them remain that way – not if the look in her eye is any indication." Beth stated with a grin.

"God help her when he finally gives into his passions." Kaveh agreed with an equally ornery grin.

ЖЖ

It has taken him a couple of days to get there, but Erik finally stood with Sergei. He had given a brief but descriptive version of what Pascal had done to Christine.

Erik had had enough of his father and he knew that the Duke would be able to help with the details of his punishment that Erik had in mind.

Sergei still felt that Pascal should meet with some unfortunate accident, but Erik had had enough of killing. There were far more mentally painful and pleasing ways to punish a man than death.

"I have enough blood on my hands, Sergei…I'll not add my father's blood to my growing list of sins."

"What do you propose to do, Erik…he will continue to be a thorn in your side." Sergei advised.

Erik's face lit up with a wolfish grin, "Do you still have a cousin at the monastery?"

ЖЖ

Christine had taken the initiative to find a horse in the stables that suited her. The roan mare that Daschel, the horse master, suggested, turned out to be perfect. She was tame enough for leisurely riding, but she had spirit enough to whip through the countryside at high speed, allowing Christine the freedom she longed for.

Christine had named her Danseur Bleu, because of the color of her coat and the dancing manner in which she walked. They had become quick and easy companions and Christine had taken to riding with Kamilla in the mornings before her studies began.

They had just returned from their morning jaunt through the hills of southwestern France, when Christine noticed Erik's carriage already stationed in front of the estate, and there was another with royal markings parked behind it.

'He's home!' She thought, and smiled when she felt her heart leap at the thought of him.

She and Beth had shared many hours of discussion about Christine's absent husband and the lack of physical contact.

_Three nights ago had been one such discussion… _

They were discussing the first time Christine had actually approached Erik.

"I told him I despised him." Christine whispered.

Beth gasped and stared at her sister as if she had grown a second head, "Christine, have you taken leave of your senses?"

"Well, he forced me into this marriage without considering my opinion, he must think I'm plain or just downright ugly…he hasn't so much as tried to kiss me – in fact, he acts as though touching me would cause him great distress."

Bethany could not believe what she was hearing, "Christine, do you hear what you're saying? Many marriages are arranged, you can't fault him for that."

"I don't, he explained why he married me and gave me permission to take a lover – he has no intention of consummating this marriage." Christine breathed.

Beth gasped and her eyes grew as big as saucers, "You have got to be joking?

"No…" Christine proceeded to tell Beth all that Erik had said to her.

The reaction from Beth was much the same as Christine had had.

"What an atrocious woman!"

"I couldn't believe the way she treated him…if she weren't dead, it probably wouldn't take much prodding for me to kill her." Christine seethed.

"This man has been through some of the most blood-chilling experiences in his life." Beth stated, feeling sick to her stomach.

Christine furrowed her brow and nodded in agreement, "…I appreciate all that Kaveh told me…Erik would have never told me…I know that much."

Christine smiled as she noticed how Beth's face lit up when she talked about Kaveh.

"You really like him, don't you?"

Beth blushed and grinned, "I suppose; if one likes the tall, dark-haired, deep eyes, handsome kind of man." She teased, "Oh! But wait! You do like that type!"

Christine gave her a playful punch on the arm, "Oh, do stop!"

Beth giggled and punched her back, "What have you got against happiness, Christine?"

"Not a thing…why?"

"Because you seem to do everything in your power to keep it from touching your life…especially where Erik is concerned."

Christine dropped her head a played with the quilt that rested on the bed where they sat.

"Everything he makes me feel is so frightening, Beth." Christine admitted. "I lose myself in his eyes and that exotic spicy scent that seems to always be on him."

"And this scares you…?" Beth was almost laughing, but decided against it.

"Beth…I'm serious!"

"Christine, dear sister, that's love!" Beth announced, "That – is – love! Plain and simple. You have to know this after what you felt for Caleb."

Christine was mortified! "What do you know about Caleb?"

"Everything, dear sister."

"You were 14!" Christine practically screamed.

"Yes, I was…but I knew the two of you were deeply in love and he took your innocence." Beth watched Christine's eyes go dark and the distant pain of what she had lost that day long ago seemed very current.

"What I had with Caleb was not nearly this intense." Christine added.

"You reacted to Caleb like a love-struck teenager experiencing lust and desire for the first time….you are reacting to Erik like a woman reacts to a man."

Christine abruptly became very quiet and it looked like tears were beginning to form, "He said that he knew I would loath him…he expected nothing less." The tears did fall this time, "He said that he didn't blame his late wife for cheating on him, anyone was better than him….what did he mean, Beth…all I have seen of him is wonderful!"

"Maybe it's a physical thing, Chrissy…I mean, what's under the mask? Maybe whatever it is has sent women running in the past, shallow though they may have been, but it would still cause a man to have a complex…even one as attractive, brilliant, generous, and caring as Erik."

"I have tried to fight it, but I do love him." Christine finally admitted.

"That's half the battle won…now, you need to give him a reason to stick around more…make his time here worth while so that he won't want to leave and can't wait to get back when he has to leave."

"How do I do that?"

Beth grinned mischievously, "Listen and learn."

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand - Oded Fehr (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) - Thank you Mlle.Fox, for suggesting this striking actor as a model for Kaveh.

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**On the above list of players, I have added an actor to pattern Kaveh Hushmand after. Thank you Mlle. Fox for suggesting him. He's perfect! As always, my friend, you do me proud!**

**I'm not really happy with this chapter, but I hope you like it anyway.**

CHAPTER 14 – **Taking Care of Business**

Christine had dedicated the next few days to taking Beth's words to heart. She would make Erik see her as _his _woman…_his_ wife – there could be no doubt in his mind of what she wanted.

He had to see himself as an attractive, viable male whose sensual movements, sculpted, solid body, and scandalously erotic voice made her weak in the knees.

Beth had suggested she be a little bit more aggressive with him about her feelings and make it known that she was not going anywhere.

She mentally went over the things she knew about him: he had a sense of humor, could disable a man in the blink of an eye and the toss of a knife, had the voice of an angel, composed operas, enjoyed horseback riding, played the piano and violin, knew a great deal about many subjects, enjoyed reading, and was a dedicated father.

She had taken it upon herself to become a decent horseback rider, something she had never really done, just so she could spend time with him. Today, she had decided to go for a ride, not knowing that Erik would be home when she finished.

She dismounted as soon as she reached the manor and allowed the stable boy to take over. She ran into the house, expecting Erik to be lingering in the hallway; but he was nowhere to be found.

Disappointment invaded her; she had hoped to greet him upon his return, but he was apparently about business in some other part of the house.

She made her way toward the main living quarters, but was stopped by Beth's frantic voice as she called to her from half way down the hall.

"What?" Christine asked, "Where is Erik?"

Beth didn't seem upset, so Christine relaxed as her sister waltzed up to her. She caught her breath and held up her hand to silence Christine's questions, and finally replied. "Follow me."

ЖЖ

"You can't mean this, Erik…I'm your father." Pascal pleaded, suddenly feeling Erik's legendary wrath descending on him.

Erik stood ominously tall with his hands crossed over his chest and a deadly cold stare in his eyes. When Christine stopped at the arch of the door his eyes locked with hers; in their green depths, she could read the anger that coursed through him.

He bowed his head slightly and briefly curved his lips in a small smile before he returned his hard, icy gaze to the trembling, petrified figure of his father.

"I warned you to never underestimate me…you have signed your own sentence, Father…" the title was hurled from his mouth with vicious force – as though it physically hurt him to utter it .

"…do not blame anyone but yourself for the measures I have been forced to take." Erik loomed over him as he listed the crimes against his father, "You committed adultery with my late wife, conspired with her to regain the title and estate, the two of you made several pathetically asinine attempts on my life, consorted with other members of the aristocracy to usurp my authority and my place at Vassadelle…"

Erik's tone was deep and controlled, but the ruthlessness was barely contained within it's cold timbre. "…you sought to end Kamilla's life before she even took her first breath and then made the same feeble attempt just hours after she was born…"

Christine had not heard this horrible story – was there no end to this man's depravity?

Erik continued, "…you recently accosted and nearly raped my wife, the Marchioness Christine." His eyes reamed into Pascal with seething hatred and there was no sign of the compassion and tenderness Christine had witnessed in him - he was calculated and competent in his decision and Pascal knew there was no escape.

Erik loomed over his father's trembling figure and placed his face within centimeters of his fathers, "How dare you even think about touching her; what you did was unthinkable and inexcusable…you are a stupid and foolish man…and your time has run out."

He straightened his shoulders and turned his back to his father, "You are going to be under the care of Friar Bernard Trudeau at the Belflur Penal Monastery."

Christine tried to contain her joy at hearing the punishment Erik had shelled out. Belflur was hell on earth for those who committed crimes against their fellow man.

It was a stone castle built into the side of Mont Blanc in the French Alps. The "tenants" worked night and day to chip rock from the walls, which allowed more rooms to be built. They painstakingly built every piece of furniture, hand-stitched each rug, curtain, article of clothing – everything, and each man was expected to attend all worship services and prayer services; bound in shackles.

Pascal, like just about everyone else in the room, had thought that Belflur was an imaginary place used to threaten those with weak minds into submission.

Erik mocked the horrified look on Pascal's face, "Yes…Belflur is very real…and you will fit in quite well."

He drew his eyes up and looked at the four, large monks who had come to deliver Pascal into the service of the church.

He gave them a brief nod and they firmly nudged Pascal out the door and toward the carriage they had arrived in; Pascal, for his part, was bawling like a child and begging Erik to have mercy on him.

But Erik had run out of mercy where his father was concerned.

He didn't even watch the wagon disappear before he headed back inside; he nodded at Christine as he passed her and Beth, and stormed down the hall toward his quarters.

He felt as though a giant weight had been lifted from him and a thick, painful thorn had been removed from his side; but a part of him mourned his father's evil heart – what had been the cause and source of his wickedness - and did the same wickedness lurk in his own heart?

It was hours before Erik emerged from his suite. He looked rested and refreshed as he moved down the hall and toward the east parlor.

Kaveh stood at the entrance with a curious glint in his eye, "That was priceless, Erik…I have waited for years for you to do that."

Erik lifted the aristocratic arch of his brow and swept past Kaveh and into the parlor, "Do what?"

"Finally rid yourself and your household of that callous buffoon."

Kaveh shut the door and made his way over to where Erik stood.

Erik frowned and his forehead creased, "The mystery surrounding my birth goes with him Kaveh…the Duke is doing what he can, but I am quickly losing faith."

Kaveh smiled gently and patted his friend on the arm, "Give him more time, Erik…I know he is making headway – I am certain of it."

Erik had asked the servants about his birth, but most of them had not been around at that time, and James had no idea what happened.

Kaveh's voice interrupted his thoughts, "Erik, I have something I need to ask you." Kaveh appeared apprehensive, but continued, "You are like a brother to me…and are, therefore, the only family I have…"

"What is it, Kaveh…out with it?" Erik urged, having some idea of what it was Kaveh was going to ask.

"…I know that I have only known her for several weeks, but it is my intention to ask Beth to be my wife."

Erik smiled; a genuine, rich smile that instantly transformed his face. "She will, no doubt, accept your hand, Kaveh…I see how she looks at you – and you at her." Erik replied, a tug of regret filling his heart.

Kaveh chanced an eye-to-eye appraisal of Erik's general mood; he appeared to be completely at peace with the idea of him marrying again.

"You are her guardian, Erik; it is for you to say if it is alright."

"I am no such thing, Kaveh…she is a grown woman, who has been married and widowed and she can very well choose her own husband…I need not get involved." Erik ran his hand through his hair in agitated swiftness, "My intent in bringing her here was simply to give Christine companionship and someone she could enjoy her time with."

Kaveh smiled broadly and Erik saw the joy in his adopted brother's eyes.

"You are blessed man, Kaveh…to have loved and been loved twice in a lifetime." Erik stated, solemnly. "Sarah would want you to move on."

Kaveh heard the sadness fill his friend's voice and knew he had never known love; at least, not in in it's truest form – but Christine would change that, of that he was certain.

"Speaking of moving on…" Kaveh teased, "…I see how Christine looks at you."

Erik scoffed and dropped his head, "You mean that pale look when all the blood drains from her face in revulsion and disgust…I don't wish to speak of this…she has made her feelings quite clear, friend…I don't need to hear it from you."

Erik walked swiftly from the room, leaving Kaveh wondering how he had lost control of the conversation so quickly. He shook his head and watched Erik leave.

ЖЖ

It was two days later when Christine finally got the opportunity to put into practice some of the new techniques she had come up with.

Music was his greatest love, and his biggest personal accomplishment – and it was a language she spoke – fluently.

Erik could hear the music before he exited the parlor. It was coming from the first floor conservatory; Christine was playing.

He quickly turned in that direction and quietly entered the large, acoustic room. She sat at the piano, playing a flawless rendition of Mozart's Piano Concerto in C minor; one of Erik's favorite's by Mozart.

Her long arms gracefully swayed with the music and her head was slightly inclined toward the keyboard, allowing him an exquisite view of her features.

She was completely taken in by the music and was unaware of his looming presence.

'She is stunning…why has no one seen this?' Erik thought; having heard what others said about her.

She sensed someone looking at her and abruptly stopped playing and stood up; startled when she saw that he stood not ten feet behind her.

'Erik.' She purred, and gave him an inviting smile.

Erik saw the subtle glint in her eyes, and his name on her lips was a sirens song; one that he was all-to-willing to succumb to.

"Christine." He said back.

She smiled at him, accepting his presence like a warm blanket on a cold winter night. "Do you play?"

Erik smirked; and for the first time, Christine saw the carefree man he could be if the pain would subside enough. His smirk lit up his eyes, and the blue in them showed strong.

He took a seat in the cushioned chair beside the piano.

"I do..." He stated with a husky timbre in his voice, "…but I prefer to watch and listen to you."

Christine blushed at his forward words, but a thrill ran through her…a thrill that awakened her body to delights she had yet to experience with this man.

Erik was blissfully unaware of the passion that raged through her body; he would not have believed that his presence was what caused it.

She sat back down and played for him; feeling his eyes on her and loving the warmth of them.

He was suddenly behind her; he did not touch her, but she was acutely aware of the warmth of his body and his masculine scent.

"Relax your shoulders and allow your arms to move freely…you won't tire so easily." He whispered into her left ear.

The delightful shiver that ran up her spine combined with the warm, sensual lull of his voice and the slight graze of his breath on her skin made Christine's body react in a most distinct manner. She crossed her arms over her breasts to hide her reaction to him, hoping he had not already become aware of it.

He took his seat, once again, "I'm sorry for disturbing you; please continue…you play beautifully." He complimented softly. "Do you sing as well?"

Christine had hoped he would ask...she had the perfect song in mind that would start him thinking about what she desired from him. The melody flowed from her fingers with expert ease and her voice - true and pure - caressed his ears...

_"Away from you, there is no music,_

there is no sunlight, the world is gray.

_Away from you, the clocks are frozen,_

_and time's a traveller who's lost his way._

_"The people I meet might as well be statues;_

_the words we exchange might as well be Greek._

_The room that I'm in may be bright and cheerful -_

_but to me, it's dim and bleak."_

Erik listened with ferocious intensity to every word she sang. Her voice touched each fiber of his body, leaving him breathless and at her mercy.

_"I'm half alive until the moment_

_the door swings open and you walk through._

_Now my world start to glow like a strained-glass window,_

_and what was old and cold, is warm and new._

_And so now you see why I can never be...away from you."_

Erik could not grasp why she was singing such an openly romantic song to him; of all the songs he was certain she knew, why this one?

"_Away from you the world is lifeless,_

_as though creation has gone awry._

_The trees are bare, there are no flowers,_

_the fields are thirsty, the streams are dry._

_"We live, you and I, for a breath of sunlight,_

_so brief and escape from a world of gray._

_Our moments of warmth have been touch and go, love,_

_but tonight, we'll touch and stay._

_"The people I meet might as well be statues;_

_the words we exchange might as well be Greek._

_The room that I'm in may be bright and cheerful -_

_but to me, it's dim and bleak."_

_"I'm have alive until the moment_

_the door swings open and you walk through._

_Now my sould is afloat on a wave of music_

_that I could feel such joy I never knew._

_And so you see why I can never be...away from you."_ (1)

She rested her fingers on the keys for a few treasured moments before resting them in her lap. She knew the words were going to cause a strirring of thoughts in Erik's mind, but she did not know how he would handle those thoughts.

Erik had been lost in the sound of her voice and the stirring melody she was weaving with her agile fingers. He knew he could sit and listen to her sing for hours, and never grow tired of hearing her.

"That was exquisite." Erik stated, still a bit shaken by his reaction to her voice. "Your voice touches me as no other ever has."

Christine felt the tears well up in her eyes and turned on the bench; she looked straight into his restless eyes.

"I am glad you enjoyed it." Christine finally said. "I know that you are a far more advanced musician than I am, could you teach me how to be better?"

Erik had not expected her to be interested in learning anything from him, but he found himself reveling in the idea of influencing her in any way. Her eyes were on him, lending their warmth and making him swallow deeply.

"Perhaps...but you are quite accomplished." He whispered. There was a moment of awkward silence before Erik cleared his throat and spoke, "A few weeks ago, you were making use of my extensive library...are you enjoying all that it offers?"

Christine smiled, "Yes, I have…I have never seen so many rare books."

"Did you find the Jane Austen books you were seeking?"

Her husky tone floated over to him and wrapped his senses in sweet intoxication. He could not believe how steady his voice sounded.

"Yes I found them all and have managed to read each one." Christine smiled.

Erik returned her smile, "So, what are you reading now?"

"It's a new book by one of my favorite authors, Jules Verne." Christine held up the book, showing him the title.

Erik smiled, and this time the smile reached his eyes, "You are reading, _Around the World in Eighty Days_….excellent choice."

"You have a very well stocked library, Erik." Christine complimented, breathlessly.

Erik nodded, "Have you read his other two books?"

"Yes, I love the adventures he takes his readers on…especially the voyage beneath the sea." Her eyes lit up as she spoke and Erik thought she had never looked more beautiful. "What an exciting trip that would be!"

"Do you like to write your own adventures?" he asked as he smiled at her enthusiasm.

Christine wasn't sure how to answer that question. It was rare for a woman to express herself in the form of a book, but Christine did enjoy writing about far off places and fairy-tale lands.

"I've thought about it, but I have never actually pursued it."

"You need only ask for whatever supplies you need, and they will be yours." Erik emphasized. "You are the marchioness, everything is at your disposal."

"My nieces and nephews say that I am quite a story teller…" Christine stated with a dreamy smile, "I love to make children smile and giggle with far-away lands, the damsel in distress and the knight in shining armor that rescues her from the fiery dragon."

Erik chuckled, a low, passionate sound that reverberated within her, "That sounds delightful…perhaps if I had one of your stories to fill my head, I would have fewer nightmares."

Christine had thought, on several occasions, that she had heard his muffled protests deep in the night...she had determined he suffered from nightmares.

Erik felt as though he had said too much, "It has been a pleasure being with you, Christine..." he brought her hand to his lips for a brief kiss.

He stood up and headed for the door; his broad shoulders and narrow hips caused a sigh of appreciation to catch in her throat. There would be another time to widdle away at his defenses - and she hoped it was soon.

Her low, sultry tone reached his ears and he had to close his eyes as her voice swept over him, "Good night, Erik."

He turned, smiled slightly, and gave her a sweeping, elegant bow, "Good night, Christine."

TBC

(1) Song is "Away From You", sung by Sarah Brightman


	15. Chapter 15

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand - Oded Fehr (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) - Thank you Mlle.Fox, for suggesting this striking actor as a model for Kaveh.

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**This is a long chapter, but a very necessary one - as they must move forward.**

CHAPTER 15 – **Womanly Wiles **

Christine couldn't pass by Beth's room without knocking. The door opened and Giorgia and Kamilla grinned at her.

"Did you come to tell us a bedtime story?" Giorgia asked, excitedly.

Christine knelt down and brushed the hair from her nieces face, "No, Poppit, but I suppose I could tell you one before I leave."

Her response made both girls leap for joy at the prospect of getting a story. Beth stood back from them with her hands on her hips.

"So, Aunt Christine comes in and you are suddenly full of energy…" Giorgia blushed and bit her bottom lip in response to her mother's charge. "…where was all this energy a few minutes ago when I told you to clean up your room?"

Christine laughed and stood up to greet her sister.

"Beth, you are absolutely glowing…could it be that there is a special man in your life?"

Beth smiled and her eyes lit up with contentment and peace, "I am so in love with him, Christine…he asked me to marry him earlier."

Christine hugged her tightly and followed her over to the high-back chairs that faced her fireplace.

"Stuart has been gone for almost a year, and although I miss him terribly, I am not going to let love pass me by." Beth stated; her tone suggested that she expected Christine to berate her.

"I am happy for you Beth, you deserve to love again." Christine said, "What about Giorgia – what does she think?"

"Kaveh is so good with her…he lost his only child when his wife died during childbirth…he has not loved since – that was nine years ago."

Beth smiled broadly and nudged Christine, "I heard you playing earlier; did _he_ hear you?"

Christine blushed profusely, "Yes…and I became a blundering idiot when he came to listen to me. I think he could actually teach me some things about playing."

Beth noticed the delighted glow Christine had in her eyes, "Did you ask him to?"

"Yes I did; he didn't commit to anything, but he did say that he liked to watch and listen to me." Christine felt the familiar warmth spread through her that had become a regular occurrence when Erik crossed her mind or her path.

Beth smirked at the admiration she saw in Christine's eyes and the look of pure bliss that crossed her face.

"He can sing too, so beautifully…his voice leaves me breathless."

Christine noticed how her body reacted to the memory of his voice, "He was singing a lullaby to Timmy and my body was reacting to him…" Christine blushed again, "…I don't know how much patience I am going to have when it comes to this relationship – I wish he would just come and demand his husbandly rights, so that I could pretend to protest, and in the end – soar on the wings of eagles in his arms."

"You are turning into quite the little seducer, aren't you?" Beth teased with a wink and then pretended to cry, "I'm so proud!"

Christine giggled at her sister's antics, "What do you suppose Father would do if he heard us talking about how to seduce a man?"

"Oh, dear heavens, he'd collapse from the sheer horror of it all!" Beth laughed.

They both watched as Giorgia and Kamilla walked toward them from Giorgia's room; the girls gave them both the perfect, eye-rolling look of pure embarrassment.

"You're talking about Uncle Erik, aren't you?" Giorgia confirmed.

The two sisters were stunned for a moment and then looked at each other, "Uncle Erik…did he tell you to call him that?" Christine asked.

Giorgia grinned and then bit her bottom lip; a trait she had gotten from Stuart – Beth found it adorable.

"Yes he did, when he came and played tea party with me and Kamilla this morning."

Christine's heart took a wanting leap as she pictured Erik scrunched into one of the small chairs around which the girls played tea party.

She glanced at Kamilla and noticed how happy the child looked to have a playmate.

Christine leaned into her sister and whispered, "I wish I had been there for that."

Giorgia still had a confused look on her face, but she shrugged her shoulders and gave Christine a big hug.

"Are you going to tell me a story?"

Christine wrapped her arms around the tiny girl and hugged her tightly. She pulled away, took the hands of both girls, and walked them to bed.

"Mama Christine, will you tell me a Bible story?" Kamilla asked.

Christine looked down into the blue eyes of the child she had grown to love as a daughter in the past few weeks.

"Madam Forsythe tells me Bible stories, but I really want Papa to tell them to me…his voice is so soothing – he makes me feel safe." her small voice trailed off and she appeared to be in deep thought; at least as deep a thought as a seven-year-old can be.

Christine tucked both of the girls in bed and then sat down beside Kamilla. She tenderly swept the dark tresses of hair out from her face and brushed a kiss across her forehead.

"Yes he does, I feel the same way." Christine smiled down at her.

"Mama Christine, do you love my Papa?"

Christine raised her brows and then allowed a sweet smile to curve her lips, "Yes Kamilla, I love him very much…" she tweaked the child's nose, "…now, how about that story…"

The girls both grinned and pulled the covers up to their chins in anticipation of the story.

_"This is a story about a girl named Esther; she was a known for her beauty, but she would soon be known for her courage. Her parents were dead, so her kind cousin named Mordechi raised her. _

_"One day, King Ahasuerus called for all the women of his country to be brought to him. Out of all of them, he chose Esther as the most beautiful, fell in love with her, and made her his queen. _

_"Now…," _Christine's eyes lit up with mischief, "…_as all good stories do, this story has a villain, his name was Haman. Haman was the Chief of the Princes in the land and was a very bad man. _

_"One day, Mordechi refused to bow down to Haman and that made him very angry. He ran to the king and told him that the Jews refused to obey the king's commands. Haman went to King Ahasuerus and said that he should have all the Jews killed, even the women and children. _

_"When Esther heard about this, she asked all the Jewish people in the land to pray and ask God for His help. God heard their prayers and gave Esther the idea to have a dinner for the King and the bad Haman. This made the King happy, because he loved Esther and wanted to make her happy. _

_"The dinner went wonderfully and Esther asked the King to save her life and lives of her people. King Ahasuerus asked her who was trying to kill her and her people; and Esther told him about Haman's evil plan. _

_"What she told him made the King very angry toward Haman, especially after he found out that Haman had planned on killing Mordechi by hanging him from the gallows. You see, Mordechi had once saved his life. He ordered that Haman, and not Mordechi, be hung from the gallows." _

_"Isn't it wonderful how God used a simple orphaned Jewish girl to save her people from being killed?"_ (1)

Both of the sleepy girls she was talking to nodded their heads in excitement. Neither one had ever heard that story before.

"Do you suppose God still uses girls to save people?" Giorgia asked with a big yawn.

Christine smiled and stood up; she went over to Giorgia's side of the bed, bent over her blond curls, and placed a kiss upon her forehead.

"Yes, I know that He does." Christine responded with assurance. 'He sent me here to save Erik from a life of loneliness and self-denial.' She thought.

She quietly left the room and half way closed the door. Beth had been listening from the other room and smiled as she came out.

"That was a great story, Christine…you really should write them down some day."

"I didn't write that one, God did." Christine corrected.

"True, but you made it easy for a child to understand." Beth remarked.

Christine left and went to her suite, wishing she could see Erik, but she would be patient and wait for the right moment.

Then, there would be no escape.

ЖЖ

The next evening, Erik didn't join them for dinner and Christine was annoyed at his absence. It seemed he was deliberately avoiding her.

She went in search of her phantom husband and found him in the library; she watched as he rubbed his forehead and seemed distressed about something.

She made no sound, or so she thought, and yet his head lifted and his eyes found her in the dark of the room.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you."

He stood and managed a slight smile as she came toward him.

"Think nothing of it, my dear." Erik stated, but a nervous smile rested on his lips, _'If only you knew how much just being around you disturbs me…my libido, my senses, my decision to keep my hands off you…everything.' _He admitted, if only to himself.

Christine liked the sound of the endearment on his lips; even if it was rather generic. Her father bestowed the same endearment on every female in his household.

He was again the immaculate master of Vassadelle; every hair in place and every inch of his body covered by impenetrable layers of clothing. She pictured him in her minds eye, as he had been the other morning; his hair loose and flowing and his magnificent chest exposed to her hungry eyes.

Erik was surprised to see her initiating conversation and contact with him. Hadn't she said, not too long ago, that she detested him?

She noticed that he held a folded sheet of paper in his hand and was curious as to its content. She hoped he would offer up the contents willingly.

"You looked concerned about something; I was just making sure you were alright." Christine stated.

Beth had advised her to let Erik know through subtle means that she cared about him and he would be more apt to believe it when she told him that she had fallen in love with him.

His features relaxed and he seemed embarrassed by her show of concern, "I am fine, I assure you…I suffer with headaches on occasion."

Her eyes dropped to the paper in his hands, "Bad news?"

Erik glanced back down at the letter he had forgotten he held and then quickly looked back at her.

"No…" he chuckled lightly, "…I had sent a letter to your family, asking if they would be averse to the idea of a visit; I know you have been missing them." Erik came toward her and stood impressively tall in front of her. "I know your birthday is the fourteenth of May, so I thought you might like to spend it with them."

Christine felt tears prick her eyes as she thought about seeing her parents and sister's families again; it had only been ten weeks since she had left, but she was eager to see them again.

"How did you know it was my birthday?" Christine asked, delightfully surprised.

Erik turned his head back to her as she spoke; she seemed pleased that he had known of her birthday.

"It was something I felt inclined to know about you…your father told me." Erik answered. "He sent a telegram letting me know that he is most eager to see you again and he wanted me to assure you that the whole town is abuzz with news of your return."

Christine laughed, knowing what that meant. They were planning something big for them.

"He mentioned a spring ball….or some such thing." Erik mumbled.

Christine's eyes lit up from the inside and an excited grin rested on her face.

"How exciting, a dance!" She exclaimed. "Do you know how to dance Erik…I am assuming you do with your musical skills."

Erik just stared at her for a few minutes. His look was one of complete confusion.

"You want me to go with you?" He inquired.

"Of course, who else would I go with?" Christine exclaimed, unsure of why he thought she wouldn't want him with her.

For once, Erik had no answer. He looked at her as though she had grown two heads and then simply ceded to her will.

"I just didn't think you would want me to intrude on your time with your family."

Christine frowned at his words, "You're my husband, Erik…that makes you my family, too."

Her words touched him, despite his inner demons warding of the warmth that coursed through him.

She walked up to him and stood very close to his regal form. Erik was not sure whether he should back up and give her more space, or stand his ground. Something told him that she desired to be this close to him, so he stood his ground.

"Besides, maybe I want you to _intrude_." She murmured.

His face was within inches of hers and his eyes were glistening pools of liquid jade. She leaned him into him, leaving his senses filled with her essence.

'He exudes such sensual power.' Christine thought as she focused on his full, luscious mouth.

Erik wasn't good at reading women; in fact, he had never tried to do so. However, he had the distinct feeling that she wanted him to kiss her.

"Christine…"

"Shhhhh…" she whispered, putting her finger to his lips.

His eyes closed at her stimulating touch, he had no idea what was happening, but he longed for it to continue.

His lips were slightly open and Christine could see the enticing movements of his tongue within his moist mouth.

She tentatively wrapped her arm around his neck and gently guided his mouth toward hers; she worked her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and marveled at the soft texture it had.

She pressed provocatively against him and he felt his body go rock hard in anticipation of what he was certain was about to happen.

Her lips touched his bottom lip first and gently suckled on its untouched sweetness. His moan was almost inaudible, but it was all she needed to advance further. She moved her mouth to his upper lip and paid it the same homage that she had his bottom lip.

She purred seductively as she pulled back from him; her tongue ran deftly over her lips as she tasted him again with another soft moan.

"If you want it, there's more where that came from." She murmured.

She slowly turned from him and walked out of the room. Her enticing backside drew his eyes and he found himself frozen to the floor in shock.

_'What just happened?'_ Erik thought.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but his mind finally released him and he elegantly sprinted up to Christine's room and flung the door open.

She whirled around from where she was standing and gaped at the feral look in his eyes. She had never seen him look so wild and untamed…he moved toward her with stealth determination; unware of the rage of desire she felt for him.

"Don't play with me, Christine…I don't play fair." He promised.

She stood her ground and challenged him with her eyes; his dark green eyes sparkled with gold flecks as he pulled her body into his embrace, captured her hair in his hand, and gently bent her head back, leaving her pulsing throat exposed for his hungry mouth.

Erik lost all sense of polite resolve and buried his head in her neck. He nuzzled against her with his cheek and breathed in her rose scented skin.

"Just let me touch you….you have enchanted me." He whispered against her skin.

Christine smiled a seductive smile above his dipped head and yielded to the wonderful sensation his mouth created as he gently moved it over her heated flesh.

He was a starved man…this she could tell. How could a man as attractive and alluring as Erik not have had a woman warm his bed every night? It baffled her.

He pulled from her as soon as her moan reached his ears…he was making a fool of himself and abruptly released her.

Christine's breathing was deep and coming in fast intervals; she was in no way done with his kisses.

She took his hand, led him over to the long divan, and gently coaxed him to a sitting position. She placed her hand to his chest and laid him back against the soft material; then, she cradled her own body against his.

She teased his lips with her fingers, gently skirting their full surface with the pad of her thumb. She marveled at how soft they were and smiled a siren's smile.

She said nothing as his eyes closed to her exploring fingers; he spread his legs and cradled her abdomen against his hardened flesh.

She skirted her lips over his mouth and pleaded with him to respond to her as she coyly dipped her tongue into his slightly open mouth.

His eyes shot open and she felt his hands on the small of her back, holding her tightly against him; she felt the prominent hardness of his body against her abdomen and couldn't remember a time when she felt so alive.

He closed his eyes again and Christine teasingly ran her tongue over his lips. He swallowed deeply and groaned loudly.

His groan signaled his surrender, and she pulled his eager mouth to hers and sealed his fate with a kiss. She tasted like red wine and strawberry cream; and Erik wanted more.

She touched her tongue to his lips and he opened to her; not realizing his movements were driving her to the brink of insanity.

Christine wasn't even aware of the moment they switched positions; but suddenly he was above her, lying provocatively between her legs. He lost himself in the feel of her; his hands tangled in the ebony curls that framed her sweet face as he wrapped his tongue around hers in sweet harmony.

Hearing her moan awakened his ardor even more and he deepened the kiss further. He had her pinned against the divan and the hard surface of his body; and he had never felt anything so exquisite in all his life.

He had never kissed a woman before, but he must have been doing something right if her satisfied moans were any indication.

She met his thrusting tongue with equal fervor and he echoed her moans in the same manner.

One hand wound behind her head and held her mouth to his with gentle force; the other hand rested on her ribcage. The kiss moved from exploring tongues to intensely passionate and Erik was lost in the sweet sanctuary of her mouth.

He pulled her bottom lip into this mouth and gently sucked on it; relishing the sweetness of it. He moved down the side of her cheek and placed moist, intoxicating kisses against the curve of her neck.

"No woman has ever…" He breathed against her heated flesh.

She lifted his head and stared deep into his beautiful eyes, "I refuse to lie to myself anymore and deny the attraction that I feel toward you."

He was stunned by her words, "You mean…you are actually attracted to me and didn't kiss me to say thank you?"

"I don't play games, Erik….you have obviously suffered greatly at the whim of other women..." Christine observed, "…I will not offer you something out of false notions or with strings attached…what I give, I give freely and with all my heart."

Staggered by her candor, Erik released her from his embrace and pulled from her. She felt bereft of his intoxicating warmth and smiled perceptively.

"I'm not going anywhere, Erik…" She reached up and touched her palm to his exposed cheek, "…you once told me that you wanted to get to know me – I want to get to know you, too."

He looked like a little boy in a candy shop as she straightened her clothing and piddled with her hair. Her lips were swollen from his kisses and Erik felt a swell of male pride.

"Can we do this again…soon?" he asked, as an amused smile played about his lips.

"I'll have to ask my other suitors, but I'm sure I can work you in." Christine teased.

The dark shadow that suddenly descended over his face made her realize the implication of her words.

She immediately regretted her teasing tone, "Erik, I'm teasing…there is no other man, and there never will be; I'm _your_ wife and you are the only man I will be sharing anything with."

The rage he had felt boiling up from deep within him had been strong and powerful…something he had never experienced over a woman. Nicholle had taken every shred of masculinity he possessed and had stomped on it…ruthlessly.

However, Christine had given it back with a subtle touch of her lips against his and a passionate ardor that rivaled his own…she had willingly and ardently kissed him and accepted his kisses in return.

She smiled at him and walked him to the door. "So, how are you at chess?" She asked.

The perfect arch of his brow raised and Christine thought how handsome he was standing there with his hair askew, his lips lightly swollen, and his shirt pulled out slightly from her greedy hands.

"Is that a challenge?" He proposed.

She smiled sweetly and cocked her head, "Only if you accept."

Erik lowered his eyes and gave her an interested smile, "Who am I to turn down a challenge."

He followed her to the chess table, sat across from her, and tried to concentrate on the game.

However, Erik's gaze kept wandering to Christine's luscious lips and the swell of her breasts – wishing he had tasted of all her charms. It was then that he realized he would kill any man who ever dared to touch her…because somewhere, within the last couple of hours, she had become his.

TBC

(1) The story of Esther is found in the Book of Esther, The Holy Bible


	16. Chapter 16

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand - Oded Fehr (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) - Thank you Mlle.Fox, for suggesting this striking actor as a model for Kaveh.

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**Short but sweet. Thanks for the reviews - they mean a lot to me! I am posting this without a read through - it usually takes a couple of times for me to catch the mistakes and fix them. If you spy them, let me know - I will go back and make it right!**

CHAPTER 16 – **Teach Me **

They weren't expected at Gustav's and Teresa's until next weekend; in the meantime, Christine decided to make a new dress for the ball. She and Beth bought the material and everything else that was needed and Kamilla and Giorgia lent helping hands.

Erik had not initiated another intimate session, and Christine, although very keen on the idea, wanted him to take charge. Her blood raced at the thought of his mouth on hers and the feel of his hands against her body…he had awakened a rampant maelstrom of desire within her and only he could appease it

They had played several games of chess and he had even challenged her to Billiards; a game she found quite entertaining – especially when she had the opportunity to observe Erik without him being aware of her wandering eyes.

She noted with growing interest the many pleasing attributes her husband possessed: He moved with masculine grace and predatory power, his body was in top form – from the dark tresses of his thick hair to the tips of his leather boots – and everything in between!

The mask had become a distant memory in her eyes; she knew it was something he felt obligated to wear for her sake and sake of others around him, but she hoped that he would find it in himself to relinquish the hold it had on him.

However, it was Tuesday morning and Christine had not seen Erik for a couple of days; she was told that he was completing an assignment for the Duke – a commission, so to speak.

"What sort of assignment, James?" Christine asked the butler.

James grinned, knowing that this young woman was responsible for the smile he had seen upon Erik's face earlier in the day.

"What would give you the idea that I know the answer to that question?"

Christine put her hands on her hips and scowled at him, "Because you know everything that goes on this manor, and probably the surrounding manors on all sides of Vassadelle." Christine teased.

"Why Lady Christine, you wound me!" James mocked, exaggerating the shocked look on his face, "I know what's going on in every manor from here to the border of Spain!"

They both laughed and Christine realized how dear this man had become to her.

"Alright, James…" Christine gently prodded.

"He's finishing an opera the Duke has asked him to write…but you didn't hear it from me."

Christine could do nothing but laugh softly as she watched James walk away from her, pretending as though he had said nothing.

She determinedly turned toward the music room and was about to knock, when the door opened and Erik appeared before her.

"Ohhh!" Christine startled.

"Christine." He purred and bowed his head.

"Yes, I was just coming to see what you were doing?"

He had an amused smile on his face, "Really; and how did you know where I was?"

"I was taking a chance that you were in the music room."

He looked so wonderful in his black pants and blue shirt. His eyes danced in pools of sea green – could the man be any more awe-inspiring than he was? She thought not.

She also noticed that his hair was loose again, and it hung around his face in raven waves…had it not been for the slight graying at his temples, Christine would have thought him no older than twenty-five.

"Well then, you found me….is there something I can do for you?" he remarked, with a slight smirk.

His mind suddenly filled with images of her writhing beneath him as she screamed his name out at the pinnacle of her release.

"Yes…" She responded, "You can teach me to use a sword."

The dark wing of his exposed brow arched at her suggestion, "You want to learn how to wield a sword?" he repeated incredulously.

Christine arched her own sculptured brows and a playful light lit her eyes, "Yes, I do…then I won't be the helpless female I discovered that I am and have found that I despise, passionately."

Erik could not argue with her logic, he knew how important her independence was to her; she never wanted to feel the victim again.

"Swords are too big and bulky for the female frame, even one as tall and deliciously winsome as yours." He purred. "You are more suited to the art of knife wielding."

There he was again, stating that he found some aspect of her attractive. She had always considered herself a bit too voluptuous for the male standard of attractive; but Erik seemed to appreciate in her curves.

"I assume you are seeking a means of protecting yourself against would-be attackers." He stated.

Christine nodded and noticed a fleeting look of pride cross his features; she knew at that moment that he would teach her everything he could about knife throwing and wielding.

"When do we begin?" Christine challenged.

Erik shook his head and smiled; a beautiful, full-mouthed smile that made her knees go weak.

"Tomorrow, 10 am – do you intend to use your newly acquired skills on me?" Erik inquired.

Her smirk was arrogant and terribly adorable, "Only if you try to stay away for extended periods of time – I prefer you here – with me…I would hate to have to pin you against the wall by your shirt tails…"

Erik amusingly scoffed at her threat and found himself oddly aroused by her show of aggression.

"That's not an entirely unpleasant thought….being pinned by you." He smirked impishly.

His ornery look made her laugh and she realized, in that very moment, that all she wanted to do was make this man realize he was as attractive as he was capable and brilliant; she knew he felt she only wanted friendship, but she wanted far more than just his friendship. For the first time in her adult life, Christine wanted a man to completely possess her – not own her – but possess her; body and soul – and she him.

She moved toward him, placed her hands on his chest, and absently played with the buttons on his shirt. She fixed her wistful eyes on his and was mesmerized by the seductive glint she saw nestled in his green orbs.

"The night I heard you singing to Timmy…your voice is very…angelic." Christine whispered.

Erik felt his heart speed up from the closeness she instigated; and his body sprang to life like the parched desert receiving rain for the first time in years. Embarrassment clouded his eyes and he backed away from her.

Christine did not let him retreat; she took a step towards him for every step he took back. It only took a few steps for him to be backed up against the hard surface of the wall.

She nuzzled the warmth of his neck and breathed in his heady scent – a mix of exotic Persian spices, rich leather, and expensive Brandy.

She moved her lips over his scorching flesh and felt a tremble move through him. Her breath whispered over him as she spoke.

"Would you sing a song…just for me?"

Erik had never sung for a woman before. Nicholle had shown no interest in his music – or anything he did, for that matter.

He swallowed deeply and tried to ignore the rampant surge of desire that sprang into his parched loins. His voice was hoarse and husky…

"We go from talking about throwing knives and being pinned down to talking about singing…you are certainly full of surprises."

Christine smiled and leaned her full bosom into this hard chest. His eyes closed in sensual alarm as he felt his body once again betray him.

Christine relished the power she held over him. She had seen the courage and fortitude he possessed, and had witnessed the legendary man that everyone knew him to be…but one touch from her, or even a word from her, and he was soft and pliable in her hands.

"Play for me…" She purred.

She slowly withdrew from him and he casually strode over to the piano.

"This is a song I wrote a couple of weeks ago." He stated with a slight measure of unease.

The melody flowed expertly from his deft fingertips and then his voice joined the melody and Christine melted into his musical kingdom.

_"Let me fall… _

_Let me climb… _

_There's a moment when fear _

_And dreams must collide. _

_"Someone I am _

_is waiting for courage… _

_The one I want, _

_the one I will become _

_will catch me." _

Christine stood in the curve of the grand piano, enthralled by the words he was singing and the voice with which he sang them. He admitted in the words that he had fears and reservations just like any other man…but he had never shared those fears with anyone.

_"So let me fall… _

_If I must fall… _

_I won't heed your warnings… _

_I won't hear them. _

_"Let me fall _

_if I fall… _

_though the phoenix _

_may or may not rise… _

_"I will dance so freely… _

_holding on to no one… _

_You can hold me only… _

_If you too will fall _

_Away from all these _

_Useless fears and chains. _

_"Someone I am _

_is waiting for courage… _

_The one I want, _

_the one I will become _

_will catch me. _

_"So let me fall… _

_If I must fall… _

_I won't heed your warnings… _

_I won't hear. _

_"Let me fall… _

_if I fall… _

_There's no reason… _

_to miss this one chance… _

_this perfect moment…" _

His voice paused for a moment while his hands descended the keys in cascading order; then, he lifted his head and looked straight into Christine's eyes…

_"Just let me fall." _(1)

As he finished the melody, Christine slid carefully onto his lap.

She purposefully drilled her plump backside into his rapidly growing erection, indicating that she knew he was interested.

"What are you afraid of, Erik?" Her melodious voice asked through the cloud in his mind.

He lifted his head and caressed her face with his eyes. She had understood the meaning of the song…even Kaveh hadn't understood.

His voice was soft and low as he answered her question with alarming honesty.

"You."

TBC

(1) "Let me Fall", Music by Richard Marx, Lyrics by Linda Thompson,

Performed by Josh Groban


	17. Chapter 17

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand - Oded Fehr (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) - Thank you Mlle.Fox, for suggesting this striking actor as a model for Kaveh.

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**I want to take a moment to thank Mlle.Fox, who has graciously accepted the task of being my beta. I hope you don't find it too taxing my friend.**

**iluvmyphantom drew a wonderful picture of Erik to go along with this story, it is posted in my profile - take a look and I thank you, iluvmyphantom, for taking the time to draw it. I am glad you are enjoying the story.**

**This chapter is short; all I can say is forgive me.**

CHAPTER 17 – **The Way to a Man's Heart **

Christine didn't respond at first; she found herself at a loss for words. His sincere admission shook her to her core and she tenuously stroked his chiseled features.

"You have nothing to fear from me, Erik." She soothed.

Erik allowed her the freedom of touching him; in truth, he couldn't get enough of her touch – that was part of what terrified him.

He loved the feel of her ample curves against the hard, masculine surface of his body, and he could not escape the vat of insecurity into which he was falling.

"Just the fact that you send my world spinning out of control with just a touch of your hand…terrifies me." Erik admitted.

"Erik, I will never hurt you…I know you find it hard to trust anyone, especially women…but just know that I will never hurt you."

Erik smiled sadly, "The fact that you have the power to hurt me – that is what I fear the most."

Knowing that she would just have to prove herself, she changed the subject, "Kaveh told me about your experiences in Persia – all that you endured."

Erik didn't look at her, but she could feel his muscles tense, "They are getting married…did you know that?"

Erik lifted his eyes to hers and nodded, "Yes, I knew." He answered, softly.

Christine smiled sweetly and laid her head on his shoulder, "Kaveh answered many of the questions I had about you, but was afraid to ask you."

Erik's brow creased with concern, "You can ask me anything, Christine…I would never hurt you."

"Oh no, you misunderstand my meaning…I wasn't afraid to ask you out of fear of you…I didn't want to overstep my boundaries and offend you – or bring up bad memories."

Erik smiled remotely, and looked away from her.

"Bad memories are an unfortunate side-effect of living as I have…you may ask me anything; I may choose to answer… or not."

His tone was sincere and Christine knew he was ready to open up – if only a little bit – to her.

Erik was poised to remove his mask at her request, but to his surprise, she didn't ask that of him.

"Tell me about Persia…in your words."

"Much of what occurred in Persia is not meant for delicate ears, Christine." He warned.

"Don't patronize me, Erik…I have been married to you for almost three months and barely know you…I think it is about time some of that wall around your heart started coming down."

He quickly stood, bringing her into his arms. He carried her with such ease over to the divan and sat her down; then, he sat down beside her.

"It's been up so long that I fear it may be permanent." Erik teased, with only a hint of trepidation in his voice.

The massive windows in front of them, afforded a wondeful view of the gardens; full of blooming flowers and budding trees. The weather was spectacular and Christine longed to take advantage of the cool, spring days.

She looked away from the view of the gardens and smirked smuggly.

"Nonsense, I am a tenacious and stubborn woman…as well you know…it will come down."

Her blithe tone make Erik smile, but she could see unspoken thoughts lurking behind his brilliant eyes.

"What Erik…what are you thinking about?"

"Your passionate reaction to me is a mystery – no other woman has ever allowed me to feel like a man." He finally admitted, touching his hand to her cheek.

He was fascinated when she leaned into his touch and her eyes closed in pleasure.

"How did they react?" she asked, wanting him to open up to her.

He smiled ruefully, "To be honest, I really have no idea – but none ever sat their sights on seducing me – that's for sure."

Christine rolled her eyes in disgusted impatience, "Well, that's a good thing…it just shows that I am a woman with taste and intelligence."

He scowled confusingly at her comment, "I've not encountered very many women at all – except those that hurt me physically, like the Sultana and the gypsy women, or personally, like Nicholle."

"Well, I am none of them…" Christine scoffed, "…tell me Erik, what do you admire most in a woman?"

He seemed perplexed by her question, and didn't answer immediately. When he finally looked at her, his eyes were turbulent, "I've never given it much thought, actually. I never thought to have a woman in my life that was there because she wanted to be…so I never thought about the kind of woman I'd be attracted to."

He paused, but Christine could tell that he had more to say. When she locked her eyes with his, he smiled brightly – and her heart skipped a beat.

"I suppose I admire strength, courage, determination, and intelligence…these are attributes I admire in anyone – women are no different." Erik's voice drifted off as he considered the possible joy of having such a woman in his life.

Their conversation was cut short by a persistent knock on the door.

"Enter." Erik commanded.

James was at the door wearing a mischievous smile and Erik new that something unusual or unexpected had occurred.

"Duke Sergei Beauvais has arrived, my lord…where would you like me to seat him?"

Erik frowned and looked at Christine, "This is unexpected…I wonder what he needs?" He looked back at James, "Show him to the east drawing room, James…we'll be with him momentarily."

Christine smiled at his usage of the "we" pronoun…he intended to introduce her to his friend and the man who had arranged this marriage.

"Come."

Erik instructed as he stood up, taking her with him and planting her feet on the solid foundation of the floor. He offered her his arm and she took it with a smile. They made their way down the hall and toward the drawing room…neither one of them aware of the pleased grin that hung on James' weathered face.

ЖЖ

He was shorter than she had pictured him in her mind, but he was every bit as imperialistic. Christine could feel her nerves about ready to pop out of her skin, and the fact that Erik considered this man one of his best friends did not help the matter at all.

"Sergei, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

Sergei cocked his head in an inquiring manner and took the hand that Erik extended toward him.

"There are some matters of extreme urgency that I wish to discuss with you – concerning your past."

Erik sensed that the news Sergei had for him, could be construed as good or bad, depending on how you looked at it.

His eyes drifted from Erik to Christine and a smile spread across his handsome features.

"This must be the new bride…" He lifted her hand to his and brushed a slight kiss over her knuckles. "…I see what you mean, Erik. – distracting indeed."

Erik felt Christine's eyes on him and knew she was wondering why Sergei would say such a thing.

"Is he treating you well, my child?" He asked Christine

He sat down on the divan and motioned for her to set next to him. Erik seated himself in the chair across from them.

"Yes, your grace, but he tends to disappear a great deal of the time and does not reappear until several days and, sometimes, weeks have past." Christine pouted.

Sergei laughed and patted her hand in a fatherly gesture, "I dare say, he probably thinks you prefer it that way…" he scowled playfully at Erik, "…knowing him."

Erik frowned irritatingly, "You do realize that I am right here and can hear every word you say?" he muttered.

"Has he played the piano and sang for you?" Sergei asked.

Christine turned her head slightly so that she made eye contact with Erik, "Yes…I have never heard such beauty."

Erik sighed loudly and crossed his arms over his chest; then he waved with an annoyed look on his face, "I'm still here."

"I must say, there would have been hoards of females ready to be bed by him – if he had let it be so."

Christine felt a pang of jealousy shoot through her and she stated firmly, "If there had been, I would have had to learn to hunt."

The possessive tone in her voice made Sergei laugh jovially and Erik was certain she was just playing into his mood; but he liked her tone nonetheless.

He was desperate to change the subject and remembered there had been a reason why Sergei showed up.

"You mentioned something about my past?"

Sergei ceased his teasing and turned his attention to Erik. "I promised you that I would do all that I could to solve the mystery of your birth."

Erik nodded, but felt his chest constrict and his breathing become labored.

"My men have found a woman whom I believe to be your maternal grandmother."

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand - Oded Fehr (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) - Thank you Mlle.Fox, for suggesting this striking actor as a model for Kaveh.

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**I am going to be going out of town for the weekend, so this will be the last post until Sunday night.**

CHAPTER 18 – **A Journey Begins **

Words escaped him; Erik had not expected to find out anything about his birth – his servants had been a dead end – except for James.

James remembered Erik's mother as being a beautiful, black-haired, black-eyed woman with an enchanting smile and lilting voice.

_One week ago..._

"She was a bright light in the morbid darkness that had encased this family, my lord…I don't know what became of her – it is a great mystery."

Erik felt a disturbed eeriness befall him as he reflected on James' words.

"There was never an investigation into her death…nothing?"

James shook his head and frowned.

"No one suspected anything?"

The look that James gave him brimmed with unanswered questions.

"You must understand, my lord, she disappeared one cold night. Pascal came back three days later – no Jenica – no baby."

Erik's head cocked to one side at the mention of his mother's name – he had only heard it one other time – once, in a fevered dream - his father had revealed it.

"You resemble her, my lord, greatly – you have the same hair and facial features. Your eyes have her shape and her long, charcoal lashes; you have her darker skin color - but you have Pascal's vivid green eye color." James reflected.

"Did you know her?" Erik asked in a whispered voice.

"No one really knew anything about her…she and Pascal married quite suddenly and she seemed terrified of him the few times I saw her."

Erik didn't have to ask his next question, James offered up the information, "Pascal had been gone several months on one of his 'excursions'. He often went away for months at a time – pursuing women, wine, and whatever else he fancied."

James didn't look at Erik as he continued, "When he came back, he and Jenica had been married and she was ready to have a baby – any day…I remember watching her caress her extended abdomen with love and protection…"

It was at this point that James had looked at Erik and smiled sadly, "…she loved you, my lord…and wanted you more than anything in the world – I saw it in her dark eyes."

* * *

That conversation had taken place over a week ago – and it still bothered Erik…it was the first time that James had opened up about his mother. Erik remembered the sadness he saw in James' eyes; and knowing his butler as he did, James was seldom somber unless he had good reason to be. 

Sergei watched the emotions play across Erik's handsome face and knew he was waging an inner war.

Erik finally raised his troubled eyes, "What makes you believe this woman is my grandmother?"

"I have spent the greater part of the last five years delving into your past, Erik…at times it has been the most unsettling journey I have ever been on." Sergei admitted, "But I know that you will have no real peace in your life and no chance at true happiness if you don't understand what made you who and what you are."

Christine felt as though she was looking down on the room from a distance and that this was all a dream…she had never heard a more heart-wrenching story – and Erik was right in the middle of it.

"James told me that I look like her…my mother – except for the color of my eyes." Erik murmured.

At that moment, Christine saw Erik as the boy he must have been all those years ago. He was an orphan in every sense of the word – not knowing where he came from and unsure of where he was going.

He was more vulnerable in that moment, than she had ever imagined he could be; he was her protector and hero; her courageous and conquering knight whose heart was as impenetrable as the stone castles that were built by his ancestors.

She rested her hand on his forearm and somehow knew that he appreciated the support and comfort from that one, simple touch.

He made no move to touch her, however, and Christine wanted him to accept all that she was offering him. She had hoped that the intimate kiss they had shared would open his eyes to her interest, but he still distanced himself from her.

"Do you want me to leave, husband…so the two of you can determine what to do next?" Christine offered, praying that he would ask her to stay.

When she said "husband", Erik realized his decisions and the circumstances they evoked did not just affect him and his children…they affected her; and despite the fight his mind was putting up, he knew his heart already belonged to her.

When had she become so breathtakingly beautiful…when had her strong determination and courage become a net spread before him to keep him from falling into a miry pit of despair and uncertainty?

He took her hand in his, turned her wrist up, and placed a kiss upon it; he was unaware of the rush of desire that swept through her at the first breath of contact.

"This concerns you too, Christine…whatever I find out about my past reflects on my ability and willingness to handle the future." He smiled slightly, bringing a familiar glow to his striking eyes.

A flood of relief washed over her and she finally felt as though they had cracked a wall erected between them before they ever married.

Sergei was pleased with the scene unfolding before him. Somehow, he had known Christine would be the perfect woman for Erik…she would not balk at the challenges that being married to him would rise; she would thrive off them.

She was her father's daughter, and Sergei had only seen one other man who held up under pressure and an uncertain future better than Gustav Delancy did – and that man was Erik Laroque.

"We will have to go to her…she is quite frail, but her mind is as sharp as yours." Sergei stated.

"What am I getting into, Sergei?" Erik asked remotely, "Am I going to regret this?"

"You have to understand where you have been in order to understand where you are going." Sergei offered. "You have to do this, if for no other reason than to gain peace of mind."

Erik nodded in agreement. He knew he had to get this particular part of his mysterious past out of the way before he could even hope to pursue any sort of relationship with Christine.

He felt relieved that there was someone out there, other than his father and Kamilla, whose blood he shared; maybe his ghosts would finally leave him alone.

"When do we leave?" Erik finally asked with a nervous smile.

"That is up to you, my friend." Sergei stated.

"I say we get started in the morning – after we have a good breakfast." Christine suggested.

James magically appeared at the door with a pleased smiled on his lips. Christine knew that the butler felt more for Erik than just employer/employee feelings; James thought of Erik as a son – and he wanted what was best for him.

"Dinner is served, my lord…I take it we will have the honor of serving you at the table tonight." James asked Erik, with a teasing glint in his eyes.

Erik frowned playfully at the old man and gave him a quick wink, "Yes James, I will be joining my family and the Duke at the dinner table."

James gave a deep bow and spoke in his most proper "butlerized" tone, "Very good, my lord."

Erik sat at the end of the table; Christine sat to his right, and the Duke to his left. Kamilla was so excited about having her Papa at the table that she didn't care where she sat. Kaveh, Bethany, and Giorgia joined them and Christine could not remember a time when she heard so much giggling in her life.

Giorgia and Kamilla were like two little chattering giggle boxes and Christine loved how Erik kept smiling every time he saw his daughter smile – he was a marvelous father. She couldn't help but think how it would look to see him holding a baby he helped create – with her; one of his own.

"How old is this woman you think is my grandmother, Sergei…and other than being frail, does she appear to be in good health?" Erik asked.

Sergei put his wine glass down and shrugged his heavy shoulders, "I'd say she is in her seventies, and she does appear to be in good health."

Erik shook his head, pleased with the answer Sergei had given.

"You told her about me…everything…and she still wants to meet me?" Erik doubted.

Sergei closed his eyes and nodded, "She knows what made you the way you are…she is eager to give you what you have so long deserved – answers."

"Is she the only one, Sergei…the only one remaining of my mother's family?"

Sergei heard the despondency in Erik's voice and knew that he feared what the answers held…would he find that his mother had been as horrid and beastly as his father was – or had she been as much a victim as Erik?

"As far as I can tell…yes." Sergei assured him.

Erik noted the concern in Sergei's voice and urged him to continue, "I am not sure, Erik…but she seems to have suffered a great many tragedies in her lifetime…I can't even begin to guess what they are."

Erik sat quietly for the remainder of the meal, but his eyes were dark and unreadable. He glanced up every now and then, to keep an eye on Kamilla.

He seemed exceptionally morose, and eventually excused himself – stating that he needed to get some much needed rest.

"The Duke has had me slaving over an opera for the last couple of weeks, and I have lost precious sleep – so I must bid you all good night."

He went over to Kamilla and picked her up into his strong arms. He hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek.

"It's time for little princesses to say good night also – they need to get all that beauty sleep so prince charming can take them away from their grumpy old fathers." Erik teased.

Madam Forsythe seemed to appear out of the woodwork, but Erik lifted his hand to stop her,

"I'll put her to bed, Edith…you take the rest of the night off."

Edith smiled and bowed her head.

"Will you tell me a story, Papa?" Kamilla asked, suppressing a big yawn with her hand.

"I suppose that I could come up with something."

Kamilla hugged his neck and waved at the smiling faces of Christine, Bethany, Giorgia, Kaveh, and Sergei.

"Can Mama come, too?" Kamilla asked; loud enough that Christine's eyes lit up.

Erik had never heard her call anyone "mama", and turned to look at the pleased face of his wife.

"Christine, would you care to join us?" He asked.

She nodded her head, said her goodnights, and followed Erik out of the dining room. This was a good moment; one she would not forget.

She followed Erik and Kamilla down the hall and could not help but admire the wide spread of his shoulders beneath the fine cut of his dinner jacket, and the graceful strength in each step he took.

Once they reached her room, Erik deposited Kamilla down on her bed in a fit of giggles as he mercilessly tickled her.

Christine laughed at his antics until she almost cried. He purposefully allowed Kamilla to get the upper hand and she ended up on top of him tickling him until his deep laughter filled the room.

"Papa, why have you been wearing the mask all the time…I miss seeing the real you." Kamilla asked, innocently.

Erik had not expected that, he assumed the children – like everyone else – preferred him with the mask on.

"Princess, there are many new people in the manor and they would be scared of me if I didn't have the mask covering my face." Erik tried to explain.

Kamilla grimaced at this answer and folded her arms across her chest in protest

"How could anyone be scared of you, Papa…you're the mostest handsomest man I have ever seen?" She exclaimed.

"Well princess, that would be _your _opinion – few would agree." Erik stated with a tweak to her nose.

Kamilla began to argue with him but he silenced her with a warning, fatherly stare and then gave her a big hug and a kiss on the forehead.

"Now, are you ready for your story?" Erik asked, tucking her in.

Her head shook vigorously and her smile lit up the room.

_"Long ago, in a far-off land, there was a great famine. It had not rained for days, weeks, and months. Every day, the people watched for a cloud to appear, and every night they hoped and hoped that rain would come tomorrow." _

Erik's voice was so soothingly beautiful and Christine could see the effect it was having on Kamilla – and could feel the effect it was having on her.

_"But no rain came. The rivers grew narrower and narrower, until there were no rivers. The ponds grew smaller and smaller until there were no ponds. A little water trickled in some springs, but most of them were dry. _

_"The leaves and the grasses were wilted and brown. The flowers hung their dusty heads and died. The lambs were too tired to play. The birds no longer chirped and sang. The people had fevers and the little children were too thirsty to play." _

Kamilla was taken in by the story and her little eyes were fighting the invading heaviness of sleep. Christine continued to lean against the windowsill and observe the night sky as his story unfolded.

_"One day a little boy started out with a tin dipper to try and find water for his sick mother. He went past the dusty plants, the quiet birds, and the sick animals, on and on, up a high hill. At last, he found a tiny spring of water bubbling in the shade of a great stone. He filled his dipper to the brim. Stepping carefully, so as not to spill a drop, he started toward home. _

_"As he hurried down the hill, he heard a faint sound. There by the path lay a little lamb. It was too sick to bleat, but it looked with longing eyes at the dipper of water; and though the lad would not take any for himself, he poured a few drops on the lambs tongue. Then a wonderful thing happened, the tin dipper changed to silver and was still filled to the brim! _

_"The little boy hurried home and took the dipper of water to his mother. As she opened her lips to drink, she thought of the nurse who had cared for her for so many days and nights. 'Let the nurse drink first.' She said. And another wonderful thing happened, the silver dipper was changed to gold and it was still filled to the brim!" _

Kamilla's eyes were closing now, but every few seconds, they would pop open and she smiled at her father.

_"The boy raised the dipper to his mother's lips again, when a knock was heard. There at the door stood a stranger. He was ragged, tired, and pale. Like the poor lamb, he was too sick to speak, but he stretched out his hands for the water. _

_"Without waiting a moment, the little boy took the dipper to the stranger. As his drank, his face grew beautiful, and he said softly, 'The water shall not be less, but more for the giving.' _

_"As they looked in wonder, the stranger vanished, but out in the yard there gushed a stream of cool water. Men, women, and children hastened with their cups to drink from it. The animals lapped the water that flowed from the spring and the birds chirped and sang as they bathed in the cool water. _

_"But the golden dipper had disappeared. They searched in vain for it until the sun went down and the stars came out. Then the little lad looked up into the sky and saw it there. It was no longer made of gold, but of seven glittering stars." _

Christine smiled at the wonderful conclusion the story was coming too, she thought it one of the best stories she had ever heard.

_"And ever since that long ago time, the mothers of the land take their children to the northern window of their homes, tell them this wonderful story, and give each child a tin dipper. Sometimes, very little children have their dippers changed to silver or gold, but many grow old still carrying their tin dippers. For in that land, no one can buy a dipper of gold; it comes only to those who think first of others." _(1)

Erik whispered the last line, bent down, and placed a kiss upon his daughter's forehead.

"Goodnight, Princess." He whispered.

She cuddled under the blankets and smiled in her slumber.

Erik walked quietly to the door and Christine followed, they both exited without making a sound and closed the door behind them.

He quietly walked her to her room and turned to address her, "Thank you for your support tonight, I…" he sighed deeply and smiled shyly, "…I didn't expect it, but I welcomed it."

"I am your wife, Erik…I support you in all things." Christine clarified.

She watched a dim light fade from his eyes, and wondered why he looked so sad.

"Thank you for that wonderful story, did you just make that up?" She asked with a teasing smile, hoping to bring a smile to his handsome face.

Erik shrugged but did not smile, "No, but I don't remember where I heard it…it must have been in the gypsy camp when I was a child."

Christine prayed that he would tell her about his past and trust her with what he hid behind the mask.

He tentatively reached for her hand and rubbed her knuckles with the pad of his thumb, cherishing the feel of her soft skin against his. He turned her hand, lifted her wrist to his lips, and placed a tender kiss to her scented flesh.

"Goodnight, Christine." He murmured.

Christine had had enough of chaste kisses, the passionate kiss they had shared had begun a simmering heat in her female core and she wanted more.

She boldly reached up and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulled his lips to hers, and kissed him ferociously – right there in the hallway.

At first, Erik was too stunned to react, but as she molded her curves to his hard body, his arms encircled her and his mouth opened to her pleading tongue.

She moaned deep within her throat and Erik's body reacted instantly. Watching her and being near her every day left him in a semi-aroused state all the time and this was only going to make it worse.

He pulled back and raked his eyes over her flushed features, her lips were slightly parted and her eyes were half closed; anticipating her next move.

His long, black lashes cast shadows on his cheeks as he leaned into her. His elegant, powerful hand glided up her velvety soft nape and his strong, deft fingers swept through her raven curls.

Erik lost all thought of his defenses and surrendered to their passion play. He gently tugged her head back and grazed his lips back and forth over hers. Then, he serially licked his way into her mouth, ravishing and seducing her with every lazy stroke of his tongue.

He was her prisoner, content to throw himself into the dark, unknown abyss of probable heartbreak only to sample her forbidden fruit again.

Christine twined her arms around Erik's neck and opened to him once again; her moist, swollen lips an open invitation to his hungry mouth.

"You taste so good…how did I ever survive without your kiss?" Erik murmured as he pressed his lips to hers again.

He savored the molten sweetness of her mouth and languidly moved his tongue over hers. Her soft sigh sent an explosive tremor through his body and he forced himself to end the kiss. He ran his fingers over the pulse at the base of her neck; and raked his eyes from the swell of her breasts to that soft spot; mesmerized by her heartbeat.

"You make me want things I gave up on long ago…I never expected…after Persia – I thought that part of me that makes me a man had died…years ago." Erik softly stuttered.

He languidly brought his eyes up to lock with hers, "I…" _love you_, that's what he wanted to say, but his mind would not allow him to say what his heart knew to be the truth, "…must bid you good night before I allow myself to go too far."

He walked away from her with what appeared to be the weight of the world on his shoulders. There was only one thing that Christine could think of to do.

(1) The story is called "A Star Story", taken from The New Barnes Readers Book Two; 1917 edition

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand - Oded Fehr (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) - Thank you Mlle.Fox, for suggesting this striking actor as a model for Kaveh.

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**Sorry for not posting last night, I was so tired that I did a little bit of reading and then went to bed. **

CHAPTER 19

Erik stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom and examined the image he had lived with for thirty-five years.

He knew he wasn't considered handsome and most considered him downright hideous; however, up until Christine entered his life, it hadn't really mattered.

Now he looked for something – anything that he felt would cause Christine to react to him the way she did. He saw nothing that even remotely resembled attractive.

His attractiveness, or the lack thereof, had never posed a problem – there had never been a woman he wished to love…he had felt lust….but love – that had eluded him. Now, he found he wanted to be loved and give the love he knew resided within him.

He had been telling Sergei the truth when he said he poured his passion and desire into his music and art – but he had sated his own lust on many occasions; what man hadn't? It was a means to and end and the act held less satisfaction for him as the years past.

Christine made him want passion and desire again. She created new feelings within him that petrified him on one hand and exhilarated him on the other.

Most nights, he slept with her image carved into the back of his eyelids and her voice echoing in his mind; this night would be no different.

ЖЖ

Christine had bathed shortly before dinner, so she opted for dabbing more rosewater behind her ears, over the curve of her neck, and in the valley between her breasts.

She pulled her hair into a ponytail and secured it with a black ribbon. A black silk robe accented the only other stitch of clothing she wore – a black, embroidered corset – a gift from her sister.

She examined her reflection and hoped she looked as sexy to Erik as she felt. How does a woman set out to seduce her own husband…especially when the husband has no experience in the love department?

Tonight, she would do just that. Tonight, she would give him the gift of her body and let him know he already had her heart. Her only prayer was that he would bestow his trust upon her.

Her body was already aching for him as she quietly made her way down the hall and up the steps to the third floor.

She knew that he did not lock his door in case Kamilla needed him in the middle of the night; of course, that played perfectly into her hand.

She eased the door open and moved inside without making a sound. The candle she carried illuminated the room in a romantic glow and she saw how enticingly masculine the furnishings were.

She anxiously moved toward the door she presumed would take her to his bedroom. She found it slightly ajar and carefully eased it open further.

She heard her husband moaning loudly as she tiptoed through the door and toward the massive bed; the sounds coming from him were agonized and full of anguish.

She quickly made her way to his side and marveled at what she saw. Erik was tangled in the sheets of his bed and he appeared to be virtually nude. He was lying on his stomach and his face was turned toward her.

There was no mask concealing his features from her; apparently, he slept without it. She saw the dreaded accessory lying on the nightstand and picked it up.

The surface was as smooth as it looked, but the mask was made of leather with a porcelain coating. The artisanship was meticulous and beautiful; he wanted it to look as unassuming as possible.

She placed it back where she got it and climbed onto the bed beside his prostrate form. The marred side of his face was exposed to her and she could see why he hid it from the world; but there was not reason for him to hide from her.

She reached a trembling hand to his face and gently ran her fingers down the jagged skin. It was soft to her touch and appeared to have no hair growth.

Tears formed in the corners of her eyes as she thought about the pain he must have endured - physically, mentally, and verbally. She marveled that he had become the man he was despite what he had been through and her heart swelled with more love than she thought she could ever feel for any man.

Erik had stopped moaning and fussing the moment her weight touched the bed; it seemed her presence calmed him, even if it was subconsciously.

He stirred slightly as her fingers continued to caress his torn flesh and then she leaned down and placed a gentle kiss upon his fine mouth. She pulled back and could not resist running her thumb along the curve of his full lips, admiring how incredibly soft they were.

Erik thought he was dreaming, but her scent permeated every cell in his body. Even in his dreams, he couldn't escape the hold she had on him.

His flesh responded to her touch and Erik roused from his dream state; he became aware of her body beside his, but his mind hadn't fully registered the reality of it.

Erik turned slightly, moving to rest on his side, rather than on his stomach. Several strands of his sable hair fell into his eyes and Christine reached over and swept it away; she jumped only slightly when Erik hand firmly, but gently grasped her around the wrist.

"Wander into the wrong room?" He asked with an arched brow, facetious tone, and acutely sharp eyes.

Her eyes were so luminous in the glowing candle light that Erik lost himself in their depth. Part of him wanted to hear her say that she had come to him with a distinct purpose in mind, but the other part of him was terrified that she _had_ come to him with a distinct purpose in mind.

He saw the tears in her eyes and rose up to look at her more fully; it was then that he realized he wore no mask.

His first thought was that she was crying because she was terrified of him, but logic soon took over and he realized she hadn't tried to move from him; so that was not the reason.

A fleeting snippet of panic swept over him, but it soon passed as he felt her hand deftly stroke his flawed cheek; he froze in place as her tears flowed without restraint.

"It doesn't cause me pain." He whispered, hoping to stop the tears.

It was at that moment Erik realized how much she had come to care for him. The realization hit him suddenly and caused his heart to swell with emotions he had never felt before.

"Maybe not the scars themselves, but you have suffered greatly because of them." Christine murmured in broken words as she tried desperately to cease crying.

She moved closer to him, until her body laid flush with his. He remained under the sheet, but Christine knew he wore no clothing; and that fact caused a rush of desire to flood through her.

She moved her arm beneath his neck and cradled his head in the crook of her elbow. Her other hand caressed his soft cheek with such loving strokes that Erik felt his own tears threaten to flow.

"There is no reason for you to hide from me…I understand if you wish to wear the mask in public areas or when we have visitors, but in this room or when we are together as a family…" she caressed his scars with her open palm, "…this is the man I want to see."

Erik was stunned at her words and he felt the moist texture of tears creep down his face. Crying was something he rarely did, but this woman had managed to render all his defenses useless with one touch of her soft hand.

"Christine…" he began, but he was silenced by the light touch of her lips against his.

He couldn't even respond at first; the love he felt with each touch of her lips spoke louder than any words she could have ever said.

He finally managed to ask her a question that had been plaguing him since she had lovingly caressed his ugliness.

"What have I done that makes you lay beside me now…with no fear in your eyes and the willing touch of your flesh against mine?"

She smiled so beautifully at him, and tears still sparkled in her dark eyes, "You've just been you, Erik…" she kissed his lips again – as softly as a feathers touch, "…just you."

His incredible eyes had not left her face as she spoke and he was unusually still. He finally reached up, ran his hand along the curve of her neck, and then pulled the ribbon from her hair.

"Just me?" He repeated, not believing that just being who he was would be enough for her.

As he spoke, he filtered his long fingers through the softness of her ebony curls. He breathed in the smell of rose water, knowing he would never tire of that smell.

She didn't have to say anything else, she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his strong heart beneath her cheek. His taut muscles flirted with her from beneath the material of the sheet and Christine ran her hand across them; she heard Erik breath in sharply from the sensation.

She put her fingers to the edge of the sheet and began pushing it slowly down his chest to reveal the dark, dusky spattering of hair that had always teased her from the opening in his shirt, but had never been completely exposed to her.

"Let me touch you, Erik." She purred into his ear, and then laved her tongue across its surface.

He hissed from the desire she was coaxing from his body and could not trust himself to say anything, he simply conceded to her hands and mouth.

Christine ran her hand through the hair on his chest, loving the soft texture it had and the way his muscles rippled beneath her palm.

She went back to his ear, nuzzling into his thick hair and then sweeping her tongue over it again. Erik moaned his approval, especially after she ran her hand over his male nipple and sent an erotic shiver over his entire body.

"I love touching you." She purred again and blew softly into his ear.

"I love it when you touch me." Erik murmured, as a husky sigh crossed his lips.

Christine chuckled bewitchingly, but could not help the sensation that shot through her and hardened her nipples to the aching point.

She moved from his ear to his luscious mouth and skirted her tongue across its fullness. Erik answered by touching his tongue to hers and then twining his arms around her.

The kiss was the most earth moving experience Christine had never had. He had certainly become an expert in the few times they had kissed, and Christine would never tire of the feel of him.

He nestled her against him as he explored her mouth with his tongue, gracefully dancing with her to a melody only he could hear.

Christine moved her hand over his chest, teasing his erect nipples and then moved her hand down further. She explored the taut, toned muscles of his abdomen and was impressed by this physique.

She didn't stop there, her hand had a mind of its own as it skimmed the tip of his erection, not far from his belly button. She marveled at the length of him – and she felt her body react.

Erik's eyes shot open and his mouth ripped from hers as he stared into her eyes with a desirously shocked look on his face.

With her eyes locked into his, Christine caressed his rock hard length through the silk sheets and watched as his eyes drifted shut in ecstasy. He surged his hips into her hand, and she moved her mouth over his nipple, caressing its stiff peak with her tongue.

He moaned loudly and one hand buried itself in her hair while the other gripped the sheets.

"I never knew a man's body could be so beautiful." Christine moaned.

She pulled the sheet down and away from him, and then firmly gripped his erect staff in her hand. She felt Erik tremble in her hand, and his moans were like music to her ears.

Erik had never considered his body beautiful; it was covered with small scars – front and back. He had never considered his muscular build attractive; it was a result of the exercises he had done while in Persia to stay in shape. He had kept up the same regiment since arriving in France.

He opened his eyes and regarded her while she pleasured his body with her hand. He gripped her face gently in his hands and kissed her passionately.

"You are so beautiful." He purred as he pulled out of the kiss.

She smiled at him and moved her hand more firmly, bringing his hips forward in a fierce thrust. His eyes slammed shut and his breathing became heavy.

He grasped her hand with his and stopped her movements. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed the warm flesh.

"You know where this is leading, don't you?" He asked, pointedly.

Christine gave one nod of her head.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked in a quiet, passion-filled voice; every part of him praying she wanted this as badly as he did.

She crawled away from him and stood beside the bed. She opened the robe to reveal the black corset beneath, and Erik's eyes raked over her with a hunger that threatened to devour them both.

"I've never been so sure about anything in my life." She murmured. "Make love to me, Erik….make my body sing…give me that passion I see burning in your eyes and sounding in your voice." She reached over and wiped the one tear she saw from his cheek.

Erik moved to the side of the bed and drew her into his arms. His head rested just beneath the jutting curves of her breasts and his hands were on her hips.

Christine ran her fingers though the thick, black strands of his hair and then ran them over his broad, scarred shoulders.

He pulled his head back and stared deep into her eyes. He read a passion in them that matched his own and he knew they had reached the turning point in their marriage.

"Once I take you, I'll not let you go…are you prepared for that?" His husky voice stated. "You'll be mine."

Christine smirked with seductive arrogance and ran her thumb over his trembling bottom lip, "Once I give myself to you, I'll not let you go…are _you_ prepared for that?"

Erik arched his sable brow with an amused twinkle in his eyes.

"You'll be mine, Erik…." She whispered.

Erik felt a strained ache reach his throat and tears threatened to spill over, "I've been yours since the day we married."

She pushed him back onto the bed and took his mouth in a tender kiss; a kiss that told him that every word she said was true and he was no longer alone – she would be beside him and help him fight his personal battles.

Erik only took a brief moment to accept the gift she was giving him and wrapped his arms around her. He caressed the plump sweetness of her backside and moaned from the feel of it.

She straddled his hips and felt the overly generous swelling of his body beneath her. She drew his hands around to her front and placed them on the aching swell of her breasts. Her eyes closed in pleasure as his large hands cupped her fullness.

"I'm yours, Erik…touch me."

Erik filled his hands with her curves, but the material of her corset was hindering his experience. He pulled her to him and ravaged her mouth with a passionately rough kiss. His tongue plundered her savagely while his hands untied each clasp of her corset.

He made short work of the corset strings and when Christine sat up, the full beauty of her curves was revealed to him. His eyes took in every inch of her and he closed his eyes in a silent prayer of thanks.

He growled deep within his throat and a feral glint shown in his eyes. His large hands cradled her full breasts and his thumbs stroked the tips to erect nubs.

"I have no idea what I'm doing…tell me what you want." He groaned, meeting her midnight eyes with his tumultuous aquatic ones.

She placed her hands over his, ceasing his exquisitely thorough strokes. She leaned down, rested her chest upon his, and then placed a tender kiss upon his lips as tears sparkled in her eyes, "I want you to love me - with your heart and body."

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand - Oded Fehr (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) - Thank you Mlle.Fox, for suggesting this striking actor as a model for Kaveh.

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**I have toned down my love scenes. I felt they were getting a bit raunchy, and that is not what I want. I hope you will still find them invigorating and fulfilling.**

CHAPTER 20

If possible, the passion burned deeper in his eyes and Christine felt she would combust from the heat.

"I've loved you since the first time I saw you holding Timmy in your arms…I couldn't get the image out of my head…why do you think I stayed away as much as I did?"

Christine smiled through the tears she was shedding and caressed his face with her hands. He was, by far, the most arrestingly attractive man she had ever known; and he had just admitted that he loved her.

"Why did it take us so long to find each other?"

Erik smiled at her question and placed a kiss upon her tear-stained lips, "Because neither of us was looking for love – I know I wasn't…." Erik wrapped his arms around her and cupped the fullness of her plump backside – pushing her against his engorged staff, "…I just never expected to be loved…."

Christine's eyes closed in pleasure as his hands caressed her. She buried her head in his neck and nibbled gently on his heated skin. She moaned against him as he molded his erection against her abdomen, causing her to squirm against him; she relished the feeling of warmth that spread through her and made her skin prickle from erotic shivers.

There was only one barrier left to break down; and this time, the barrier was hers.

"I have a confession to make – one that you are soon going to find out on your own – but I feel that I should tell you."

Erik looked at her strangely, wondering what she was about to tell him.

"I am not an innocent, Erik…I foolishly lost that when I was sixteen."

Erik furrowed his brow and then reached up and caressed her cheek, "Did you love him?"

"At the time, I thought I did." She confessed. "I was only sixteen."

He nodded and then smiled with relief, "That is all that matters."

Christine released the breath that she had not realized she was holding.

"Whether you think so, or not – you are so handsome…it makes me ache with need." She whispered into him. "I love you so much."

She followed her sweet words with a kiss that sealed the declaration. She moistened the surface of his lips with her tongue and Erik moaned in pleasure; opening up to her.

He rolled them over to put her beneath him, never breaking lip contact. The sheets wrapped around him, but he gracefully maneuvered out of them, pushing them to the floor as he continued to ravish her mouth with expert finesse.

He found the erect nub of her breast and teased its aching point with his fingers, causing Christine to pant in pleasure.

Her body was alive in his hands and he couldn't get enough – he was bringing her pleasure; _him_…he had never thought to have the joy of a woman's body - but Christine freely offered her bounty to him.

He pulled his mouth from hers and immediately seized the dusky peak of her breast with his hot mouth; something he had done many times in his vivid dreams.

However, this time, she trembled beneath him; writhing her body against his achingly swollen flesh. Erik's desire was to last quite some time before taking his pleasure, but he knew his virgin body would not allow it.

The feel of her in his mouth and in his hands was driving him to near insanity, and despite his best intentions, he had to have her – now.

He wrapped his hand around his pulsing staff and rubbed the throbbing head against her moist center; Christine arched against him and opened her eyes to watch him claim her.

He paused, as though ready to plummet over into an unknown abyss – he wanted to ensure this was what she wanted before he went too far.

She saw the uncertainty in his eyes and smiled longingly up at him, "Give yourself to me...I want you so badly."

He inched into her, slowly taking himself to the depths of her. He had never experienced anything that remotely resembled the rapture he felt as her warmth accepted him and then completely ensconced him.

He buried his head in her breasts and suckled them as he propelled himself into her; she meant each banging thrust of his hips with a low, husky moan and an arch of her own hips.

She was his haven of rest and shelter – in her arms he felt safe and protected from the pain that had become like an unwelcome companion in his life.

He moved his mouth from her breast and buried his head in the column of her neck. The rosewater scent filled his mind and he kissed the soft juncture where her heart was raging, rapid and untamed.

The heavenly sensations shooting through him did not allow him to stay in one spot for very long; and his head shot up. His eyes were closed in delight and his mouth was parted as delirious moans pushed him further down the path of unknown ecstasy.

She pulled him closer to her as her arms encased him in their sanctuary. His ear was at her mouth and she ran her tongue over the surface; the feel of her tongue on his flesh begged for his strong hips to grind into her even deeper.

He felt her inner muscles constrict around him, causing every inch of him to tingle with rapture. Christine cried out with her release and Erik held her to him as she nuzzled his shoulder to muffle her screams of pleasure.

He followed her immediately, releasing a growl of exquisite delight as he poured his seed into her with the force of years of pent up passion.

Their heavy breathing filled the room and the musty scent of lovemaking surrounded them. Erik sought her lips in a tender kiss that spoke more strongly of his love than any words he could have spoken.

"Don't move…not yet." Christine whispered. "I love the feel of you inside me."

Erik smiled down at her, kissed her upturned nose, and winked, "Give me a few minutes, and I'll be ready to do that again."

Christine smiled seductively, "We have all night, my love."

Erik made slow, maddening love to her that night; bringing her to the heights of ecstasy with his mouth and hands; and then, finally yielded to her in like manner until they rode the waves of passion together again.

Deep in the starlit night, sated and at peace with the world; Erik Laroque drifted to sleep in the arms of the woman who loved him.

ЖЖ

He had never awakened to the sheer bliss of having a woman's body entwined with his, but he realized it was something he never wanted to be without – as long as that woman was Christine. She was wrapped around him like a cocoon and for the first time in his life, he felt content and happy.

He turned to see her eyes on him, and moved onto his side so he faced her.

"Good morning, husband." She purred.

Erik grinned and leaned in for a kiss.

"Good morning, wife." He purred back.

They shared a leisurely kiss, exploring their newfound love.

"Keep this up and we won't get anything accomplished today." Erik teased, "We have to leave this morning; Sergei is undoubtedly pacing the floor as we speak."

Christine laughed at the thought of the Duke pacing the floors.

Erik stood up and stretched. He grinned at the female appreciation he saw in Christine's eyes; she was openly ogling his body's many hard, muscled surfaces.

'Mmmm, has anyone ever told you what a beautiful body you have?" She questioned, eyeing him with open interest.

His quiet, seductive chuckle felt like a warm breeze to her senses, "The sultana made many such comments, but I assumed she was being sarcastic." He glanced down at his body, not thinking it anything wonderful; and then he lifted his eyes and smirked at her, "So, you want me for my body…" he teased, "…the truth comes out."

His smile was wicked, but she caught him off guard, when she reached over and grabbed his arms, pulling him back onto the bed and fully on top of her.

"I want you for many reasons…but your body is pretty high on the list."

Erik was pinning Christine to the bed when a frantic knock sounded on the door.

"My lord, I cannot find the marchioness, she seems to have disappeared!"

Erik heard the panic in James' voice, looked at Christine, and jumped off the bed. He pulled on his silk robe and pulled the door open.

"My lord…"

"She's here, James, with me….she has been all night."

James relaxed his worried muscles and allowed a smile to creep onto his face.

"So, would this mean that I need to move her things into your suite, my lord?"

He peeked around the broad expanse of Erik's chest and smiled at Christine – who, of course, was mortified and buried her head in the pillow.

"Is there some other man's suite you had in mind, James?" Erik teasingly inquired, with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

James, without missing a beat, responded, "Would you like me to start at the bottom of the list, or at the top?"

Erik shot him wolfish grin, "Burn the list…now, where is Sergei?"

"He has just finished his breakfast, my lord; shall I bring you and the Marchioness your breakfast?" James asked with a lilting tone.

"No James, we'll be down." Erik answered.

James left them, with a bow and smirk.

Erik turned back toward Christine and ravished her with molten eyes, "Now…where were we?"

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from "Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand - Oded Fehr (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) - Thank you Mlle.Fox, for suggesting this striking actor as a model for Kaveh.

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**Thank you for all your comments and uplifting words. Thank you to my beta, Mlle.Fox - for her candor and suggestions - and especially for her time.**

**God bless you all.**

CHAPTER 21

In reality, Sergei wasn't pacing the floors, he was sitting in the parlor listening to Giorgia and Kamilla play the piano and sing. It was quite entertaining, and it served to remind him of his grandchildren.

"They'll do that for hours if you keep encouraging them." Erik warned.

Sergei looked up to find him standing in the doorway observing his daughter and niece having the time of their lives. Giorgia was doing the singing, as she had only had two piano lessons to date and was not prepared to grace the public with her abilities.

Kamilla, an accomplished pianist at the age of eight, was completely overpowering Giorgia's soft, lilting voice; but no one seemed to care - they were completely content.

However, at the sound of her father's voice, Kamilla jumped from the piano bench and threw herself into his arms.

"Papa!"

Erik hugged her slim frame and then lifted her into his arms. She was going to be as petite as her mother had been; which made Erik thankful - she hardly resembled Pascal at all.

"Your playing was quite good sweetheart, just watch your trills - especially in the upper registers." He instructed.

She nodded her head and hugged his neck, accepting all the help he could give her.

"Papa, are you and mama leaving today?" Kamilla asked, poutingly.

Erik smiled and tweaked her chin, "Yes, we are going to be leaving in a few hours. Aunt Beth will be here with you."

"When will you be back?"

"Tomorrow night, I don't see us needing any more time than that."

She didn't like the idea, but she didn't fuss about it. She was just happy that her papa and mama seemed to be getting along splendidly.

* * *

Five hours later, Erik, Christine, Kaveh, and Sergei were on their way to a remote area nestled in the mountainous region of eastern France. 

Sergei had commissioned his personal locomotive for the trip; knowing it would be faster and more comfortable than traveling on public transport. The journey would last a total of five hours, and they would arrive in the late afternoon.

"This is really quite extraordinary." Christine exclaimed to Sergei, admiring the luxury of the train and the smoothness of the ride.

He smiled, accepting her compliment, "Thank you my dear."

Erik had drifted to sleep in the seat beside her and she could not resist reaching over and caressing his cheek, just to be assured that he was real.

"It does my heart good to see the love you have for him - it has been too long in coming."

Christine smiled and briefly raised her eyes to his.

"I think it was God's plan for you two to wed – He just used me as the vessel to make it happen." Sergei acknowledged, "You are the perfect woman for him."

"He is dear to you, isn't he?" Christine asked, seeing the fondness in his eyes and hearing it in his voice.

Sergei nodded and smiled brightly, "Yes, he is the son I never had."

"Do you have any children of your own?"

"Oh yes, a daughter….she is married and I have grandchildren." Sergei stated, "My wife had serious problems bringing our daughter into the world – I thought it best not to risk another child."

Christine empathized with him, and could see the desire he had once had for a son to carry on his title.

"I miss her terribly." Sergei murmured. "I should have been over this a long time ago."

"No one ever fully recovers from the loss of a loved one, your grace…her memory will always live on."

Sergei smiled at her words, "I must say, my dear, you are everything I knew you would be…I know your father – or at least I know _of _him."

"Really?"

Her arched brows and inquisitive eyes were the exact image of Gustav. Sergei nodded his agreement and continued to smile.

"He is one of the most respectable men I have ever had the privilege of doing business with; although I doubt he remembers much about me."

Christine giggled, "That's true; he is horrible with faces. He probably forgets what he looks like the minute he steps away from the mirror."

The conversation lulled, and the next thing she knew, Christine was waking up to the sound of a train whistle as they pulled to a stop in a small community called Nouri.

Erik sat bolt upright when the whistle ended; his hair touseled and his eyes still blurred with the touch of sleep. He took a minute to acquaint himself with his surroundings and then smiled at his wife.

"Pardon me for being completely rude, I apparently needed the rest." He stated with a yawn and a stretch.

"I can't imagine why, you are still newlyweds, are you not?" Sergei said with a teasing smile.

If possible, Erik actually appeared to blush at that comment and glanced at Christine's smiling features. He reached over and took her hand as the train completed its stop.

They exited the car and watched as their luggage was loaded onto the carriage.

The far mountains were capped with the white tips of a late snow and the air had a slight chill as the breeze swept down upon them.

"It's beautiful!" Christine exclaimed, breathing in the crisp, mountain air.

Erik looked around with shadowed concern in his eyes. His features had dropped shortly after stepping off the train. He had yet to say anything, but remained quiet and aloof.

Christine went to him and slipped her hand into his, drawing his attention to her.

"Are you alright?"

He gave a crooked smirk, but the tenseness did not leave his eyes.

"Fine…" he uttered, a bit more tersely than he had intended.

Christine creased her brow and continued to stare at him. Her stare drew his eyes back to hers and he noted the concern.

"I'm fine...really." He pulled her hand to his lips for a tender kiss.

Sergei and Kaveh approached, having noticed the rigid stance of Erik's shoulders and the way Christine looked at him.

"What is it?" Kaveh asked.

Erik seemed hesitant to answer and refused to make eye contact with anyone.

"Erik?" Kaveh warned. "What is bothering you?"

Erik finally closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

"Can I have no secrets?" He exclaimed. " It's just a feeling - but I think I know this place." His voice was low and strained, but the trepidation in his words was palpable.

"You were here…as a child?" Christine asked.

Erik could only assume that to be the answer. There was so much around him that seemed familiar – even the smell of the mountain air.

"After a long journey – that's how I got here…the images are so vague."

Everyone stood deathly still as Erik took in his surroundings. His eyes closed as distant, long suppressed memories floated to the surface of his mind.

He was completely unaware of the people at the small train depot whispering and averting their eyes, but Christine was not.

A middle-aged couple passed him with awkward stares and Christine heard the man whisper in an almost inaudible pitch, "Gypsies…why do we have to put up with their kind around here…after all these years."

When Christine whirled around to catch the eye of the old man, he blushed and looked away…but Christine had heard his words – very clearly.

She stared him down with angry eyes, daring him to utter one more word.

Sergei put a calming hand to Erik's rigid shoulder, interrupting his trance, "There is something I need to tell you...you are part gypsy, Erik….your mother…"

Erik didn't look at Sergei; but kept his eyes fixed on the horizen. The words Sergie spoke found a home in his heart and Erik experienced a peace of mind he had never known.

It explained a great deal, really; the way his skin would remain dark, even after months of being imprisoned underground in Persia, his raven hair and long dark lashes; he was certain there were more attributes he acquired from them as well. He should have figured it out long ago.

No wonder his father always said there was witches blood in him…his mother's people…no – his people, were often regarded as witches because of their practices.

Knowing there was gypsy blood in him made his abuse at their hands even harder to understand; he was one of them.

"Come." Sergei instructed, guiding them through the curious onlookers and into a waiting carriage.

"Why would my own people torture me as they did?" Erik asked as they rode the carriage toward his past.

"There are different camps, Erik…gypsies are nomadic and at war with one another – it is quite possible that the camp you were imprisoned by was at war with the camp you were born into."

"How do you know these things?" Erik asked.

"Many hours of study. My men have spent years searching for any information that I could pass on to you...I drank in the information they obtained so that I could properly relay it to you."

Erik nodded, allowing other memories to seep through. He seemed to remember the fierce battles he witnessed while caged and confined.

There had been a few rare moments in his young life that had been peaceful, but they were rare indeed. He remembered that they always locked him in his cage, covered it with black blankets, and hid it in the trees – never wanting him found.

She had looked for him…his mother and her people – that is why they hid him.

The knowledge that she had looked for him relieved the heaviness in his heart that had been there for many years; this was a journey that Erik wished could have been made two decades ago.

The carriage came to an easy stop and Sergei gave Erik one more affirming look before he opened the door to allow their exit.

"Are you ready, Erik?" he asked softly.

Erik nodded, "As ready as I'll ever be."

The carriage door shut behind him and Erik felt frozen to the ground. He was once again a scrawny, scarred boy with little hope in the world and no friends.

His reservations were put to rest, when a woman in her mid fifties came toward them. She was clearly NOT a gypsy, with her faded blond hair and pale complexion; but her eyes found Erik, and her hand flew to her mouth as tears flowed down her face.

She stopped directly in front of him and then smiled into his striking eyes, "My lord, it is an honor to finally meet you…please follow me, Manuela has been anxiously awaiting your arrival."

Erik repeated the name in his head, and let it roll off his tongue. He felt an odd pressure in his chest at the sound of the name - the name of his grandmother.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from " Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand – Oded Fehr – (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) Thanks Mlle.Fox!

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

CHAPTER 22

They all entered the small house, half-expecting incense to be burning and a fortuneteller to be sitting in the small living room telling fortunes and selling lies.

Erik's senses were on edge as he looked around the humble residence. He closed his eyes and breathed in the strange combination of aromas that bombarded him: cedar, pine, candles, lavender, and the heavenly aroma of fresh baked bread.

He remembered each one with fondness, but had no idea why.

"Please, make yourselves comfortable." The older woman stated.

Sergei and Kaveh both sat down on the divan she indicated; Christine sat down on a settee, leaving room for Erik.

Erik, however, remained standing. The woman turned her eyes to him and once again smiled warmly. The smile eased his nerves only slightly, but it was enough.

"My name is Elizabeth Warner; I have been a nurse and friend to Manuela for many years. I was recently able to talk her into buying this small house as a residence instead of remaining in the camp…there were just too many memories..."

Erik stood as still as a marble statue, barely hearing anything she was saying. His focus was on a picture over the fireplace.

The face he studied was angled and proportioned in the same way his was, and the black eyes had the same shape and depth as his did. Her dark curls fell about her shoulders in the manner of black fleece. She was stunning.

The picture had to be of his mother.

Christine stood beside him as he studied the face that seemed so familiar to him; and yet, he had never beheld it. She took his strong hand in hers and gave his fingers a gentle squeeze, assuring him of her love.

"She was beautiful…like her mother." Elizabeth whispered, as she came to stand beside the young couple.

In the shadows of the adjoining room, dark, aged eyes followed his every move, taking in his regal stance and straight, broad back. He carried himself like the prince he was – or, the prince he should have been.

Erik sensed her before he saw her and his innate instinct forced his eyes to search the shadows.

Her small frame became visible to his trained eyes and he turned toward the shadow that concealed her from the others.

Manuela locked her eyes with his and moved toward him with a sure step, her eyes never leaving his.

Her voice filled the room, full and strong, despite her age.

"You are her very image, except for the green of your eyes." Manuela affirmed.

Erik swiftly moved to stand before her, towering over her small frame. He looked down into her strong, wearied features and knew she was who she claimed to be. The love that he witnessed, nestled in the black onyx of her eyes was as powerful as the love he knew Christine now held for him.

"Come here boy, so I can get a good look at you." She ordered in a wavering, but motherly tone.

Erik moved closer and she continued to stare up at him, "You are a tall one, aren't you?"

She indicated for him to sit down at the dining room table, which he did, and she turned to him. Erik saw the shimmering, silent tears she held back and his heart ached for all the wasted years.

He saw deep pain in her eyes, a pain that mirrored his own – only her pain seemed much more acute than his was; and he experienced, possibly for the first time since Kaveh's wife had died, compassion for the pain of another.

Manuela delicately reached for the mask that covered half of his face from her searching eyes. Erik did not attempt to stop her as she removed it and placed it on the table beside her.

Her aged hand caressed the scars that covered his right cheek and extended up the side of his face toward his forehead.

Manuela's eyes drifted from his for a moment as she remembered the beautiful face of her only daughter. The last memory of that face had been while the lifeblood flowed from Jenica. She remembered the small, equally beautiful face of the son her daughter had wanted so badly...that face still existed beneath and around the scars that formed.

She once again moved her gaze to Erik and bent to place a kiss upon his forehead. He watched as she shuffled past him and into the next room, to greet the other guests.

"Erik, come and introduce me to those with whom you travel."

Erik retrieved his mask and followed his grandmother's tiny form into the parlor.

Manuela immediately noticed Christine and her gaze turned inquiring. Erik stood beside her and did as he she asked.

"Grand-mère, I believe you are already acquainted with Duke Sergei Beauvais, a dear friend who is much like a father to me."

Sergei raised her wrinkled hand to his lips and placed a kiss upon it. Her smile was radiant as she bowed her head to him.

"The dark one is my true and loyal friend, Kaveh Hushmand. He helped me in Persia on several occasions and then helped me to leave; I owe him my life."

Manuela allowed tears to flow from her wise eyes as she reached up to Kaveh's handsome face.

"I owe you a life debt – for saving my grandson."

"He failed to mention that he saved my life on several occasions also." Kaveh said, smiling at the old woman.

Manuela patted his hand and then fixed her eyes on Christine, once again.

"Grand-mère, this is my wife, the Marchioness Christine Ana Delancy Laroque."

"Wife." Manuela repeated in a whisper, while a smile spread across her face.

Christine curtsied at the small woman who stood regally before her. Manuela's eyes held such pain, but the tenderness with which she regarded her sent warmth through Christine like a fire in the hearth on Christmas morning.

Manuela drew Christine into her strong embrace and then seated herself beside her, leaving Erik to sit in the chair across from them.

"You have the coloring of a gypsy, my child." Manuela stated, still gazing at Christine's dark eyes and hair. "You are strong of bone and heart…you will have many strong, healthy children."

Christine smiled broadly, loving this tiny woman instantly.

"Do you love my grandson?"

Christine raised her eyes once more, to look into the concerned eyes of Erik's grand-mère.

"I love him with a passion I never knew existed." Christine assured her.

Manuela seemed content with that answer and turned her head to Erik. She noticed him looking at Christine with desire in his eyes, and the evidence of his love convinced her that he was happy, indeed.

"Love is essential in a marriage…I loved Drakkar with every beat of my heart – and have not loved since."

"My grand-père?" Erik asked in a whisper.

Manuela smiled and nodded with tears filling her eyes.

"You remind me of him…your mother was the apple of his eye…" She caressed his face with her eyes. "…she looked like him, and you look like her."

"What happened, Grand-mère …please tell me why I am the way I am." Erik finally asked.

Her eyes once again drifted into an unknown realm – one that Erik could not enter, except by her words…

FLASHBACK

Somewhere in France, early 1835

_Jenica Covaciu was the most stunning young woman within many of the camps. She was a gifted musician and dancer, and people came from miles to see her perform._

_Manuela, her mother, kept a watchful eye on her only daughter; as did her father – Drakkar, the king of the gypsies; her three older brothers acted as body guards on most occasions, but those who would court her were few._

_She was the princess; and every eligible male in the camp, as well as many outside of it, desired marriage with her – but none would wed her without her fathers consent; and Drakkar would not allow her to see anyone – she was only sixteen._

_One night, a group of gorgios entered the camp, eager to gamble their money away on wine, women, fortunetelling, cards and other games – whatever they could find. The group was lead by a nobleman named Pascal Laroque._

_He was known throughout the region for his safaris and excursions. He had extravagant taste and wasted a great deal of money everywhere he went. However, many made the mistake of thinking him a harmless man._

_He was also quite the lady's man, and he had his pick of women wherever he went. He had left a trail of broken hearts behind him, and wasn't looking to commit to anyone._

_When he and his men stumbled into the Covaciu camp, no one paid much attention to him, accept to take his money; that is, until he saw Jenica dance._

_He became obsessed with her and he returned every night of the carnival just to watch her. His persistence worried her and she became suspicious of his intentions._

_Her three older brothers watched her closely and kept her protected from this man whose eyes held contempt and lust where she was concerned. She was kept under constant vigil._

_Pascal was enraged when he was not allowed to be near the girl in any way. He didn't care that gorgios were not acceptable suitors for gypsy girls – he wasn't wanting to court her – he wanted to bed her._

_His infatuation turned to obsession and he exercised his noble authority upon a group of thugs with whom he had shady dealings._

_He had Jenica kidnapped, right out from underneath the watchful eyes of her older brothers. Once her absence was discovered, Manuela became inconsolable and Drakkar was frantic._

_It took Drakkar, several other men of the camp, and Drakkar's three sons two weeks to find her. By the time they found her, he had bound and raped her – who knows how many times._

_Pascal was hunted down and brought before the camp – his men were dispersed and told to never return._

_Drakkar was livid and the camp was enraged at the dishonorable and violent way their princess had been violated. Normally, a marriage between a gypsy – especially a member of the noble family – and a gorgio was forbidden, but the only way to keep Jenica from being shamed any more than she already had been, was for them to marry._

_He protested at first, swearing that to marry a witch was unacceptable; but heated words were exchanged and threatening promises were made, so Pascal accepted the responsibility of his actions._

_At first, all seemed well…Pascal seemed content with his new wife and he settled into life with the camp – but he needed to return to his estate. He had been gone for several months and he needed to check on things._

_As the months passed, it seemed that Jenica was petrified of her new husband, and no one knew what to do about it. The fear in her eyes every time he entered the room or called her name was quite palpable…but everyone just assumed she was overreacting._

_When he left with her, she was about six months pregnant. She had seldom left the camp and was very unfamiliar with any other way of life. To those on the outside looking in, the couple appeared to be happy._

_Pascal and Jenica bid a fond farewell, promising to return before the baby was due. No one noticed the look of disdain that settled on Pascal's face or the hatred burning in his green eyes._

_In the darkest, deepest part of the night, three months later, Jenica frantically returned to the camp stating that she had left Pascal in the carriage. While attempting to cross the river, a wheel had come off and the carriage had plummeted into the flowing water._

_Pascal had been jerked around and he had hit his head. The impact had knocked him unconscious. Jenica fled on foot, knowing she was not but a mile from camp._

_Upon reaching the camp, she stumbled toward her mother's tent – knowing that her precious child was only moments away from entering the world._

_Her husbands threatening words still echoed in her mind; he had threatened to cut the baby from her womb and slice it to pieces – simply because the child was part gypsy. He despised her people and the blood that now polluted his child. He had never wanted marriage to begin with and a child would only complicate matters. _

_Manuela arose to catch her daughter's exhausted body as labor befell her in great waves. Jenica chronicled the tale of her husband's abuse to her mother and all that she had endured over the last few months._

_Through her agonized tale, her anticipated baby made his way into the world. Although exhausted from the delivery, Jenica cradled her newborn in her arms, nestling him to her breast as he drank from her; it was love at first sight and she cherished the child deeply._

_The infant was exceptional and Jenica could not take her eyes from him. Mounds of black hair spilled over his head, dark lashes fluttered over the deepest green eyes – the one aspect of Pascal that she could still say she admired - he was beautiful._

_A small birthmark adorned his right cheek – a mark the gypsies saw as a sign of his future prominence and the great successes he would accomplish. He was a prince among the gypsies and his birth was to be celebrated._

_While the celebration forged on, Manuela went to the river to fetch some water to clean up her grandson and her daughter. Had she known what would ensue, she would have never left._

_Pascal had been waiting in the darkness for the first sign of his child's birth. He had decided to try to raise the child on his own – away from the tainted ways of the witch that bore it._

_While Manuela was away and the others were out looking for him, Pascal snuck toward the tent he knew Jenica had gone into._

_She was nursing her son and was not aware of the evil that had just reigned down upon her; his voice pierced the happiness that had settled in her heart._

"_Give it to me…no child of mine will be raised by witches!" Pascal seethed._

_Jenica could bring no scream to her throat as panic filled her. She held the infant to her breast and tried to shield him from his malevolent father._

_Pascal would have none of it as he violently tore the baby from his mother's protective hold. _

"_NO!!!" Jenica finally screamed. "Pascal! Give him to me…Erik!!!"_

_Pascal's eyes rested on the birthmark and blatant disgust overtook his features. He literally threw the child back into the arms of his mother, demanding that she remove the mark by divination._

"_You are all witches!" Pascal screamed. "Make him perfect!"_

_Jenica did not respond but backed away from her monstrous husband. _

_Pascal was enraged. He advanced on her again, and wrenched the screaming infant from her arms._

_Jenica reached for her son one last time before Pascal drew his sword and ran her through._

"_No son of mine will be raised by witches!" he spat. _

_Manuela headed back to her tent and, upon hearing the angry voices and her daughter's tortured scream; she ran inside and witnessed a horrifying site._

_Jenica writhed in pain on the floor of the tent and Pascal loomed over her with Erik in his arms. He had unsheathed his knife and was cutting the mark out of the cheek of his son; completely unaffected by the piercing screams._

_Manuela charged forward, trying to stop the butchery she was witnessing; but from out of nowhere, two of Pascal's men held her back._

_His carnage continued until he had completely obliterated the baby's cheek and had torn the flesh from the right side of the infant's face._

_When he was finished, he savagely placed the lethargic baby back in the dying arms of his mother._

"_A witches monster – how fitting." Pascal spewed at his wife._

_He twitched his head at his brutish men and they fled into the night._

_Manuela knelt down at her daughter's bleeding form and held her head in her lap as Jenica bid her life farewell. _

_Jenica shed every tear she had for the son she would never see grow up – she smoothed his bloodied hair from his ravaged and mauled face, and pulled him against her breast._

_With the last ounce of strength she possessed, she handed him over to her mother and with her dying breath thanked God for the chance to have held her son, if only for a moment._

"_Tell him I loved him, Mama…tell Erik I loved him…"_

_Weeks past and Manuela nursed the baby back to health while mourning the loss of her only daughter; the joy of having Erik in her life helped ease the emptiness that Jenica had left behind._

_The camp was planning an attack on the Laroque Estate to seek revenge for the death of Jenica and the inhumane treatment of Erik._

_Little did they know that Pascal had already gathered a small army of a rival gypsy camp and men of his own._

_The attack happened in the wee hours of the morning, six weeks after the brutal murder of Jenica. _

_Manuela awakened to find Pascal and several men from the feuding camp in her tent; her husband was nowhere to be found._

"_My husband will return shortly." Manuela stated, hoping to warn them off._

"_I think not, Manuela."_

_She looked up into the loathing, lusting eyes of her former fiancé, Javert. He was from a neighboring camp and he had never forgiven her for choosing Drakkar over him._

"_Javert…what are you doing?" Manuela pleaded._

_Javert's evil smile made her skin crawl and his snarling voice turned her blood cold, "I told you I would make you sorry for denying me…"_

_Several burly men entered the tent and threw Drakkar's bloody body and the bodies of her three sons at her feet…she collapsed on them in tears._

"_The monster rests there – take it, just as I promised you…it will surely bring you a great deal of money." Pascal stated as he pointed to the crib._

"_NO!!" Manuela started toward Erik, only to be knocked to the ground by a strong fist._

_Pascal's sinister laugh was the last thing she heard._

_When Manuela roused from the hard hit she had sustained, almost her entire camp had been slaughtered – and Erik was gone._

END FLASHBACK

Erik saw the tears flow down her face and engulfed the woman in his tender embrace; trying desperately to rid her mind of all the tragedy she had endured.

His tears mingled with hers as he at last came to terms with why his face was severely scarred and his gypsy master had despised him so.

Her entire family had been wiped out in a single night; and the murderer was his father and his men. Pascal had murdered his mother, his uncles, his grandfather, and many others that night. Thankfully, his grandmother had been spared.

Manuela pulled out of Erik's embrace and stared into his eyes. She saw the eyes of her daughter, despite their color, and smiled genuinely at him.

"He spared you, thinking Javert would kill you in a short time – apparently, he found other uses for you." Manuela stated with a sad smile.

Erik dropped his eyes and trembled slightly from the reality of it all.

"He made me into a freak for his traveling show…I was his biggest attraction – The Devil's Child."

Erik's voice was low and controlled, but anger and pain lingered in the undertones.

"I don't remember much before the age of four…but after that all I knew was jeering eyes, the crack of a whip, the blunt edge of a rod, screaming…"

His face became a blank slate and the coloring drained from his flesh. Images – horrible, humiliating images crowded his mind. Images he had fought to keep buried for years – images that had been replaced by another time and another place – thousands of miles away.

"They violated me in the most degrading way…" Erik felt his stomach wretch at the memory…the pain had been excruciating.

Erik ran from the room and spilled the contents of his stomach into the lavatory. A tormented wail came from deep within him as he faced the reality of his treatment at the hands of his gypsy cousins.

Christine could bare it no longer and ran to him. She found him in a heap on the floor as he faced memories he had so long dismissed and ignored.

She sat down beside him and pulled him into her arms, resting his head across her lap. She played her fingers through his thick hair and allowed his tears to cleanse his parched soul.

"They raped me, Christine…numerous times..." his voice was soft and broken – like a child whose will had been extricated from him in the vilest of ways. "…mostly with objects…"

He went silent for a few moments and then he raised his head to her breast and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I've never known such pain…everything after that was like child's play."

Kaveh, Sergei, and Manuela watched and listened from the door. Manuela could not stop the tears that flowed for the anguish her grandson had endured.

Erik was suddenly very exhausted and wanted nothing more than to lie in his wife's arms and rest.

Manuela watched the tenderness shared by the two young lovers and smiled her approval; Erik had found his soul mate, and life was going to be good. She moved forward and bent her small frame to sweep her hand through Erik's dark hair.

"Take him to bed, Christine….make him forget."

Christine smiled at the woman who was now her grandmother and nodded at her.

"Come Erik, let's get you to bed."

Erik lifted his head from her neck and then stood up. He looked down at the small, yet strong form of his grandmother and meant her eyes with pride.

"He's dead, Grand-mère…Javert is dead by my own hand..." Erik stated with little remorse, "…I strangled him."

"Pascal?" Manuela asked.

"He is serving at the penal monastery in the Alps – for crimes committed while he resided with me…he will never be a free man."

Manuela smiled her approval and cupped his chin her hand, drawing him down to her level.

"Let the rest go, my love…you need peace – as do I."

She placed a gentle kiss to the scars on his face and lingered her cheek on his for a brief moment before letting him go.

"She loved you, Erik…more than life itself."

The whispered words made his heart sore with the eagles. He belonged. He never realized how much he longed for that until this very moment.

She pulled from him and wiped the tears from his face with her soft, weathered hands.

Erik took Christine's hand and allowed her to lead him to the bedroom where the solace he sought could only be found in her arms.

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from " Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand – Oded Fehr – (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) Thanks Mlle.Fox!

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**This chapter is short but VERY sweet. I thought you lovely people might need a bit of a rest after the intense content of the last chapter.**

CHAPTER 23

The room was warm and quaint, with a small terrace overlooking the flower garden that Manuela meticulously tended every season.

Erik had stepped out onto it, hoping to clear his mind and sort through all the unfamiliar images he was processing.

The night air was cool for the first week in May, but he supposed the mountain air was always slightly chilled.

He had removed his shirt and the moonlight moved over his muscled torso like the seductive strands of a haunting melody.

"You look like a Greek god." Christine murmured.

She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist; he leaned back into her loving embrace and reflected on how safe he felt in her arms.

"What are you thinking about?"

Erik turned in her arms and pulled her to him, wrapping her in a warm hug.

"How much my life has changed in just a few short months."

His chin rested atop her head and she could hear the steady, strong beat of his heart against her ear. The low drum of his voice as he spoke had a lulling effect on her, and her eyes closed in response.

"If someone would have told me a year ago that I would have a wife who loves me and desires me, I would have laughed at them…and now, I not only have a wife who loves and desires me, but I also have a grandmother who has loved me since I was born."

The overwhelming truth of it all was almost more than Erik could take in, but he wanted it, all of it – more than he was willing to admit.

"I never expected the pain to be so….personal." Erik whispered "Knowing that my father is guilty of the cold-blooded murder of not only my mother, but every member of my family – except my grandmother."

His eyes were shadowed by the night, but as she pulled back and stared into them, Christine knew he was reliving the events as his grandmother had told them.

She needed to ease that pain and there was one way she knew would bring him the peace – if only fleeting – he needed to make it through the night.

She ran her hands over the soft flesh of Erik's chest as he stood before her. She marveled at the way his muscles flirted with her palm as she caressed him.

She replaced her hands by barely touching her lips to his starved flesh, causing goose bumps to cover him and a soft sigh to escape his mouth. He shivered under her hands and she reached up and placed a gentle kiss upon this lips.

"Ssssshhhhh…my love…give your pain to me…" She whispered.

"Christine…the ache is so…" he couldn't even bring the words to mind that described the complete despondency he felt, "…all the wasted years…my family…"

She took his hand and led him to the bed; she swallowed the lump in her throat and gently laid him down across it. His eyes closed to the softness of her hands, the scent of her skin, and the promise of her love.

She fanned her hand across his chest as the she lay down beside him.

"Let me pleasure you…I want nothing more than to do just that…"

Christine caressed his ear with her words and moved her hand down the chiseled muscles of his abdomen.

Her nimble fingers found the closing at the front of his pants and worked it loose as her moist tongue tickled across the surface of his chest, capturing his manly nipple in her mouth.

He moaned beneath her, but his eyes remained shut. He had no idea what she planned to do with him, but he loved the feel of her hands and mouth on him and his only desire was to surrender to her will.

Her hand wound inside his pants and under his underclothes to the hardened swell of his cock. Erik surged into her hand as he growled low in his chest.

His flesh fascinated her – the contradiction in texture was amazing and wonderful. His skin was soft and tender to the touch, but the staff was hard and stiff – it was an exciting phenomenon.

The knowledge of the pleasure she would soon give him caused a moist surge from her body and she felt her own desire pooling.

She kissed her way down his chest and then pushed his pants down and off him; his underclothing soon followed; and Erik, bare, bold, and beautiful, lay in front of her.

His body was a sculptured work of art. His muscles danced in the candle light, and she sighed in wonderment of his beauty.

She spread his legs with her searching, soft hands and he still didn't open his eyes; but when she laid her body down between his legs and gripped his cock in her hands, he languidly opened his eyes to observe her exploration of his body.

"That feels so good." He uttered in the softest of tones.

His head drifted back to rest upon the soft surface of the bed and he moaned faintly, urging her on with his pleasurable sounds.

She massaged the head gently as he pushed himself upward and into her hand. He placed his large hand over hers and showed her the rhythm he enjoyed, coaxing her into a steady, firm pace.

Christine watched the pleasure on his face and the beat of his heart at the juncture of his throat; he was especially beautiful when wearing the erotic shades of lovemaking.

She could feel him swelling in her hand and knew it was time to change the pace; she wanted him to experience pleasure in many ways.

She steadied her hand and moved her mouth to the pink head that jutted out toward her, begging for attention.

Erik's head bolted up and his eyes found hers. He was shocked into silence, but the pleasure that shot through him forced his erection further into her mouth.

"Oh…dear….lord…." he finally stuttered as she set a completely different pace; one that would send him spiraling over the edge.

She moved her mouth and tongue over him with a thoroughness that had him writhing beneath her; completely oblivious to anything else – the world did not exist – just Christine and the joy she was bringing him.

She could feel him nearing his climax and slowed her pace; she moved from him and stripped away her own clothing in record time. Erik watched her from beneath long, lazy lashes, a smile of contented joy on his lips.

Christine crawled back on top of him and took his mouth in a passionate kiss, winding her tongue around his as she sheathed his body in hers.

Erik raised his hips to hers as she rode atop him. She set up and braced her hands on his pectoral muscles as his hands circled her hips, and the pace became frenzied.

Her hair hung down her back and skirted across his hips, adding to the sensation of touch. Erik could feel the building inferno within him and knew he was going to topple over the edge in a short time.

She sensed it and increased her strokes. She placed her feet to each side of him and pumped him with long, deep thrusts.

She felt her body grip him deeper and then spasm around him as she plummeted toward her release and then heard him follow in loud harmony.

She laid herself over him, kissing his chest as he finished his forceful movements and finally wrapped his arms around her in completion.

He didn't say anything for the longest time, he just held her in his arms; one hand rubbed her back and the other ran through her hair.

"How did I ever make it through life without you?" he whispered.

Christine smiled and looked down into this face.

"I ask myself that same question when I realize how blessed I am to have you."

He smiled and kissed her mouth gently.

"I love you, Christine – with all that I am…" his eyes were the softest shade of green she had ever seen.

"Not as much as I love you." Christine teased.

Erik chuckled with a tired yawn and pulled her down to him again.

In a matter of minutes, they were both asleep.

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from " Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand – Oded Fehr – (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) Thanks Mlle.Fox!

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**We are nearing the end...we'll see how much more I can squeeze out of my already over-worked brain.**

CHAPTER 24

After Christine and Erik had gone to bed, Kaveh and Sergei remained in the living room with Manuela.

She had sent Elizabeth away to make some tea and they sat in the small room – with nowhere to look, but at each other.

"Tell me the manner of his suffering…I want to know everything." Manuela finally demanded, in much the same tone Erik often used.

Kaveh looked at Sergei and Sergei looked at Kaveh, neither of them wanting to tell the ghastly tale of Erik's torturous past.

"I may be old, but I am not dense – I know that he must have suffered greatly – I see the pain staring back at me from my daughters eyes."

Kaveh sighed deeply and finally looked her straight in the eye.

"The tale is a rather long one, and not for the faint of heart." He stated honestly.

"I've had thirty-five years of believing him dead…I think I can take one night of the truth – even if it hurts."

Kaveh slowly and painfully spelled out Erik's life to her in vivid detail. Her eyes never wavered, but tears of pain and regret inched down her wrinkled cheeks in a steady flow.

Sergei also listened; catching the details that Erik had never felt inclined to share with him.

Erik had revealed a great deal on the floor in the bathroom; much about how the gypsies had treated him…his own kind. Javert had exacted his revenge on Manuela for rejecting him years before – it mattered not that Erik was of gypsy blood…it apparently made his revenge even sweeter.

After Kaveh finished and a couple of hours had passed, Manuela wiped her eyes and tiredly smiled at them both.

"I knew the moment Jenica rested him in my arms; I knew he was strong – physically, mentally, and spiritually….he may bend from the pain and waver with the injustice of it all…" she stood up and squared her shoulders with pride, "…but he will never be broken – he has the strongest spirit I have ever felt - then and now."

She turned from them and headed down the hallway. She walked with a confidence and a sureness that they both recognized as being the same way Erik walked.

Elizabeth showed them both to adjacent rooms and the house was quiet for the remainder of the night.

ЖЖ

Erik awoke to the most heavenly smell he had ever had the wonderful opportunity of smelling.

Someone was frying bacon and the intoxicating smell of coffee was wafting through the air and under the crack in the door.

Christine was already up and had apparently left the room. He smiled when he realized he had never even heard her get up and move around the room…he must have been very tired indeed.

He quickly dressed and quietly walked toward the small kitchen.

His grandmother was scrambling eggs and making biscuits, while Christine fried the bacon and sliced apples.

He had never seen Christine look so domestic – honestly, he didn't even know she could cook - and the sight of his grandmother and his wife talking and laughing brought tears to his eyes.

He smirked and wiped them away, rolling his eyes at the number of times he had shed tears since Christine had come into his life.

_"Too many." _ He said to himself.

He cleared his throat to alert them to his presence and both women turned to him at the same time.

Christine bounded over to him and placed a kiss upon his lips; then she returned to her task – not wanting the bacon to burn.

"I could get used to seeing you in my kitchen preparing a meal for me." Erik teased.

Christine looked at him and graced him with a crooked smile. She raked her eyes over his tall frame, noticing how sexy he looked leaning against the door jam with his arms crossed over this chest.

"I suggest you draw a picture and place it in our kitchen – that is as close as you will get to me preparing a meal in our home." Christine retorted with a humorous scoff and point of her finger.

Manuela chuckled at the playful way they bartered back and forth…it did her old heart good to hear them play with each other.

Erik sat down at the small table and watched them work. Not five minutes passed before Kaveh entered and shortly after him, Sergei appeared.

"My, but something smells very delicious." Kaveh commented.

Erik smiled broadly and pointed to himself, "That's my wife over there, preparing me a meal….and my grand-mère, too."

"You just have to boast, don't you?" Sergei teased.

Erik chuckled and shook his head.

Breakfast was served and everyone ate heartily. Erik was normally not a big eater, but his appetite had suddenly become persistent with the newfound contentment he was experiencing.

"Grand-mère, do you know why this area seems so familiar to me?" Erik asked.

Manuela nodded her head, "Yes, this was the last place I traced you to before being told you were dead."

Erik cocked his head and raised his brow, "Dead?"

"This was the last place Javert's camp was seen…people remembered you being a part of his show…but no one was talking." Manuela hung her head, "They showed me a grave and pieces of clothing with what was supposedly your blood on them…" She lifted her eyes to his and continued, "…the local people didn't know how or why."

So, that's how they had done it…they had buried Javert and moved on, hoping to never have to deal with his killer again. Imagine explaining how a nine-year-old boy had managed to outsmart and overpower a man of Javert's size; it would be quite entertaining.

"I stayed here because I felt close to you…somewhere your spirit remained…." She smiled sadly, "…I mourned your loss every day and every night…but joy came to me when I was approached by the Duke concerning your identity, and I realized you were my Jenica's Erik."

Erik made a decision at that moment; he decided he wanted his grandmother with him for the remainder to the time they had left.

"Grand-mère, would you consider moving to Vassadelle – I have many manor houses available, one that would be perfect for you and Elizabeth…" Erik pleaded, "…I would love to have you in my life and the lives of my daughter and son."

Manuela's head spiked up and her eyes took on a life of their own, "You have children?"

"By blood, they are not mine – but I have raised them as my own. Kamilla is actually Pascal's by birth…as he compromised my late wife…but she is _my _daughter in every way that counts. Timotheus is the result of my late wife's affair with the horse trainer. I have also raised him as my own."

Manuela's eyes moved to Christine and her brows rose questioningly.

"Christine and I have only been married for four months." Erik explained.

He did not go into detail about only consummating the marriage for the first time two nights ago.

Her head shook in understanding and she had a slight smirk on her face.

"That sounds like quite a story…one for a long trip…" She sighed, "…give me a couple of months to clear things up around here, and then come and get me."

Erik's heart rested easier knowing that she would be close by – his family would almost be complete.

"We will be back to get you on the first day of June, that should give you plenty of time." Erik stated.

"It should indeed." Manuela agreed.

ЖЖ

The trip back to Vassadelle was a completely different experience than the trip coming had been.

Erik didn't drift off at any point in time, which wasn't saying a great deal, as Christine stayed in the car with him while Sergei and Kaveh stayed in another part of the train.

"Thank you for coming with me, Christine…your presence certainly made everything easier to accept"

He was lounging beside her, with his long legs stretched out in front of him and a cocky grin on his face.

"I'll go with anywhere, my love…you must know this." Christine responded.

"I believe I do."

Erik just sat there, looking deliciously ornery.

"Shall we begin those knife throwing lessons when we return?" he asked with a devious grin.

Christine chuckled and shook her head.

"I don't want to learn how to throw knives, Erik…I only said that to get closer to you."

Erik just shook his head and "tsk, tsk, tsked" her.

"And to think…I thought I was the diabolical mind in this marriage." Erik complimented.

Christine grinned sheepishly, "Oh, you're diabolical, my love – in many, many ways!"

Erik lifted his exposed brow and moved it up and down slightly, then he winked at her, "If this was my personal train and we were somewhere in the wilderness of France; and we were all alone, I'd have my way with you right here…right now."

Christine lifted challenging eyes to his, "Not if I have my way with you first."

At that, Erik had to laugh.

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from " Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand – Oded Fehr – (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) Thanks Mlle.Fox!

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

CHAPTER 25 

Saying good-bye to his grandmother, if only for a few weeks, proved to be a very difficult thing for Erik to do.

He had never bid good-bye to anyone he loved before – and he had loved his grandmother before he even met her.

Erik was in a world of his own making as the train carried them toward Vassadelle and the southwestern corner of France.

Sergei had come to sit with them and Erik knew he had to speak. He turned to Sergei and bowed his head in submission.

"I can never repay you for the gift you gave me by finding her."

Sergei wrapped his arm around Erik's shoulder and gave him a fatherly squeeze, "You have become the son I never had, Erik…I will gladly do anything for you."

Erik lifted his head and gazed into Sergei's sincere eyes.

"You owe me nothing…just having you as a friend and confidant is payment enough for anything I do."

His words caused a lop-sided smile to adorn Erik's mouth.

Sergei rested his head back on the cushion of his seat. He was silent for a few seconds and then he smiled brightly, and with his eyes still closed spoke jestingly toward the seat he knew Erik occupied.

"Oh, and it's fine with me if you need to borrow my train in about three weeks."

Erik heard the teasing tone and retorted likewise, "I wasn't going to ask."

"Of course you weren't."

"I was just going to steal it."

Sergei grinned, still not opening his eyes, and replied, "You and whose army…it takes a crew of ten to run this train."

Erik conceded with a comical sigh and a shrug of his broad shoulders, "Alright, you proved your point."

"I knew you'd see things my way."

Erik rolled his eyes at Christine and smiled. "He's impossible when he's proving something."

"I see that." She agreed.

Ж Ж

When they got home, Erik got the joy of telling his daughter that they would soon have a great-grandmother living near them.

"What's a grand-mère?" Kamilla asked with wide-eyed innocence.

Erik shifted her on his knee, realizing just how fast she was growing to big for them, "She is my mother's mother." Erik explained.

"Where is your mother, Papa?"

Erik swallowed the sting of regret that hung in his throat, "She's in heaven….with the angels."

Kamilla hung her head in understanding.

"You never knew her, did you?"

Erik pulled his daughter into his chest, giving her a big hug. His large hand smoothed her hair as he spoke.

"No Kamilla, I never knew her…." His words were soft and almost whispered, "…but I miss her so very much."

Christine had been watching the exchange between father and daughter and knew that Erik's heart was finally grieving for the mother he never knew.

For so many years, he had thought she had abandoned him…now he knew she had loved him with every breath she had taken.

He took the time to tell her and Giorgia a story with Christine embellishing on several points. They bade both girls good night with a kiss on the forehead and left the room.

"Come down stairs, I haven't heard you sing and play in so long…"

Erik arched a brow at her seductive tone and smiled, "How would you like to hear a composition from my latest opera, 'My Beloved Immortal'"?

Christine, looking quite intrigued, agreed enthusiastically and took his hand as he led her down the staircase and toward the conservatory.

They passed Beth and Kaveh as they were headed to their respective rooms.

"Where are you two lovebirds headed?" Beth asked with a wink.

"Erik is going to play and sing for me…a new song he wrote for the Opera Sergei asked of him." Christine answered.

Erik turned and looked at them, "Come and join us…it should prove to be very liberating…I wrote the Opera with Christine in mind as the main female lead and myself as the ugly leading man."

Christine swatted him on his arm and ridiculed his self-abasing comment with a stare, "You are the farthest thing from ugly that there is…don't ever say that."

Erik chuckled at her demanding and assertive tone, "Yes dear…" He lifted his eyes back to Kaveh and Beth, "…forgive me…the 'devilishly handsome leading man.'"

She smiled at his play on being amiable; she knew he was anything but. His eyes twinkled with gold specks and Christine got the distinct impression that he could read her thoughts.

He continued toward the conservatory and everyone followed, including James.

Erik turned toward them and nervously twisted his hands together. He waited for them to be seated and then spoke a few words.

"This piece is the love theme sung by the male lead at the climax of the story...I will expound on that afterwards..."

Erik glided onto the piano bench and floated his long fingers across the keys. He was facing them, and his eyes drifted shut as the melody found its avenue through his genius…

_"Come into these arms again..._

_and lay your body down_

_The rhythm of this trembling heart..._

_is beating like a drum." _

The hauntingly dark strands of the music took the listeners into another world...a world of blood red passion and deep sorrow.

_"It beats for you...it bleeds for you__..."_

_It knows not how it sounds._

_For it is the drum of drums..._

_it is the song of songs_

_"Once I had the rarest rose_

_that ever deigned to bloom._

_Cruel winter chilled the balm,_

_and stole my rose too soon._

A chill coursed through Christine as she realized that the character had lost his love and the agony threatened to consume him.

_"Oh loneliness...oh hopelessness..._

_to search the ends of time..._

_for there is in all the world..._

_no greater love than mine._

_"Love...still falls the rain._

_Still falls the night..._

_be mine forever._

_"Let me be the only one_

_to keep you from the cold._

_Now the floor of heaven is laid..._

_its stars of brightest glow._

_"They shine for you..._

_they shine for you..._

_they burn for all to see._

_Come into these arms again..._

_and set this spirit free."_ (1)

His voice resounded off the walls, although his volume was not loud and boisterous…it just seemed to surround and inhabit everyone and everything.

Everyone listening experienced the shiver that ran up their spines and all knew that they were in the presence of greatness.

When the song ended, there was astonished looks on each face, but the words had clearly served their intended purpose.

"Erik, I've never heard anything like it – so dark and haunting…." Christine commented, "…so tragic and piercing...what is the opera about?"

Erik smiled, acknowledging that her words were the exact reaction he was hoping to gain. "The hero…" Erik creased his brow, rethinking that term, "…no hero is not the right word; we'll go with 'dark' hero, is Lord Adrian Montague. He is a powerful vampire who challenges the foundations of his kind by falling in love with a beautiful, innocent, all-to-human maiden named Lillith."

"How dapper, talk of vampires is everywhere – many believe they exist." Beth whispered, fascinated by the storyline.

Christine had read _The Vampyre_, a tale by Lord Byron; in fact, her father owned an original copy of the novel.

"Tell us more, Erik…this is fascinating!" Beth exclaims.

Erik gave an elegant, sweeping bow, "Alas, dear sister, I cannot. You shall have to attend the opening night at the Opera Populaire in Paris."

Beth pouted, hoping to sway him in some way, "Erik…when is opening night?"

He smiled and chuckled lightly, "The first day of October."

Beth gasped and pouted even more, October was five months away.

He leaned in, pulled Christine into his tender embrace, and whispered, "I will tell you this much, their love costs them both dearly – in the beginning…" He smiled mischievously, "…_My Beloved Immortal_ is full of deception, betrayal, passion, pain – everything that makes a house a home."

"Sounds like my kind of opera." Kaveh remarked with a wicked grin, and everyone agreed.

(1) "Love Song for a Vampire", sung by Annie Lennox, from the movie "Bram Stoker's Dracula", 1990

TBC


	26. Chapter 26

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from " Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand – Oded Fehr – (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) Thanks Mlle.Fox!

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**I seem to have lost some reviewers, I don't know if it is my story or personal issues, but I miss every one of you. Thanks to those of you who faithfully review each chapter, it is very appreciated.**

CHAPTER 26

The next few weeks past uneventfully, Manuela and Elizabeth settled into the west manor house quite easily and everything seemed fine.

However, everything wasn't fine. Erik had heard disturbing reports from the monastery. Several attempts to set Pascal free had been made. The monks had warded off the perpetrators, but no one had been caught.

They did manage, however, to get a description of these men from several of the guards and a few of the more repentant prisoners.

With those descriptions in hand and imperative security upgrades, Erik and Kaveh were ready for whatever these pitiful men decided to try.

One evening, in late August, one of the guards approached Erik with a crumpled brow and disturbed eyes.

"My lord, my men and I found several men lurking on the outer limits of the estate. They were armed and very agitated. What would you have me do with them?"

Erik's stomach knotted in rage. So, they had made their move; what did they think they were going to accomplish by taking on his well-trained, well-compensated guards?

"Where are they now?"

The young man noted his lords strained tone and the hint of fury that threatened to overtake him.

"We have them secured in the tower, my lord."

"Very well, I am on my way."

Erik summoned Kaveh, explaining the situation and they both headed for the tower, eager to confront these men with the information they had.

ЖЖ

Erik only knew a few of the men. There were fifteen total, and the few that he knew were noblemen with their hands dirty with weapons dealings, illegal drugs, and flesh peddling.

"Lord Armond, I can't believe that a man of your influence couldn't come up with a better group of ruffians to invade my home." Erik spewed, his words dripping with mockery.

"If things had gone the way I planned them you'd be dead now…and every one who has aligned themselves with you."

Lord Armond burrowed eyes of hate into Erik, hoping to make the younger man flinch with uncertainty; instead, Erik smirked menacingly at the man he knew to be his father's closest friend.

"You can't begin to comprehend the danger you and your men just walked into."

Lord Armond's heart was practically jumping out of his chest. Pascal had never indicated how commanding and intimidating this man was.

The other prisoners were silent, realizing that they had most likely walked into a trap.

"You knew…you knew we were out there…how?" Lord Armond stuttered.

Erik shook his head and smirked again, "The monks have been instructed to wire me should any suspicious correspondence or people arrive at the monastery." He chuckled darkly, "I suppose that includes you and your army of miscreants."

Erik had known to expect an attack of some sort; hence, the reason for increasing security training and hiring the most skilled guards that money could buy.

Kaveh had done the training and Erik knew to trust that they were up to the task of protecting his family from the misguided, desperate attempts of Lord Armond.

"What you have done to Pascal is reprehensible…I demand you release him."

The laugh that sounded off the walls and carried down the stony corridors was chilling and deadly.

"You _demand _that I release him?" Erik mocked.

Erik walked with slow determination, stood before Lord Armond, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Tell me, Lucian, do you remember a night, thirty-five years ago, when you waltzed into a gypsy camp behind your ruthless leader, Pascal Laroque?"

Erik could see the recognition in the man's blue eyes. Terror oozed from each pore and the man began to fidget under Erik's livid, green stare.

"I'm not the product of an amiable relationship my father had with a willing woman…my mother was the gypsy princess Pascal murdered that night…"

Lucian's eyes widened and he felt the bile rising in his throat…he had longed to forget that night so long ago…but the screams remained – every time he closed his eyes.

"Don't think that I am not aware of what you did to my family that night…the murdering of my mother, my grandfather, my uncles – and countless others."

The look on Lord Armond's pinched features was priceless. Erik could see the wheels of thought turning in the man's head; he was trying to come up with a way to talk his way out of this.

However, some unknown, unseen force took a hold of Lord Armond's voice and the words were out before he could stop them.

"I killed no one – I witnessed Pascal slaughtering many – I don't know who they were, nor do I know how many there were."

An evil, condescending smile curved across Erik's mouth, "Even if what you say is true, you did nothing to prevent the atrocities he committed – none of you did…you are all as guilty as he."

"NO!"

The man was panicking and Erik found his plight amusingly entertaining. The others were as still as stone statues; their faces masked with calm indifference – but Erik could see the fear in each set of eyes that dared to look his way.

"What do you plan to do with us?" Baron Manhausen finally asked, finding his voice.

Erik smiled with serpentine sweetness, "There is a ship that leaves tomorrow morning headed for the jungles of South America…" the smile disappeared to be replaced by a searing stare, "….Kaveh and my men will make sure that each of you is on it."

Each man gasped loudly and some began to whine; a particularly emasculated looking man even wet himself.

"Our families…estates…"

"Your families will be taken care of – each of you has my word on that."

"Taken…care…of…?" Lord Armond stuttered.

Erik settled determined and unyielding eyes on him, "I am not in the habit of butchering women and children…they will be afforded the chance that my family was not given…they will go on without you."

"How did you know it was us…after all these years?"

Another menacing smirk spread across Erik's features, "I have eyes and ears everywhere…I know a great many things…about a great many people."

He turned from them and did not return, wishing to cleanse his mind of their existence.

After instructing his currier to inform the Duke of the evening's events, Erik dismissed the situation and joined his family for dinner.

TBC


	27. Chapter 27

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from " Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand – Oded Fehr – (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) Thanks Mlle.Fox!

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**Thank you for the reviews and words of encouragement; I thrive on it. This chapter is really long. I hope you find it informative and uplifting.**

CHAPTER 27

The following week found Erik, Christine, and Kamilla heading toward the town of Tretradia to see Christine's family.

Gustav was a bit apprehensive about the visit, he had only corresponded with Christine by letter; and, although her tone in the letters was uplifted and content, he knew that she could have been putting on a front for his sake.

"Gustav, will you please stop pacing the floor, they'll be here any minute and I don't need you wearing a hole in the carpet."

Teresa Delancy was a stout, strong, beautiful woman whose family turned to her for moral and spiritual support. She and Gustav had a love that transcended all obstacles and it showed in the way they interacted.

Gustav stopped in front of her and gently grasped her shoulders, "What if she's not happy…what are we going to do then?"

His eyes were pleading for answers and Teresa didn't have any; all she knew was that her daughter's letters had seemed to have a "happy" sound to them.

"Gustav, you are working yourself into a panic." She kissed the tip of his nose and led him over to the divan. "Calm down and take deep breaths."

He did as he was told, but he was not to happy about it. Teresa sat beside him, leaned into his broad chest, and curled up beside him. Her voice was soft and consoling as she spoke.

"Over the last seven months, this man has done everything he promised he would do…your business is thriving, we are wealthier than we have ever been; our lives are much more satisfying…"

Gustav began to wonder where she was going with this little speech.

"…he promised you that Christine would have anything she desired…he would give her anything and do anything to make her happy…what makes you think that he would fail to keep that promise if he has not failed to keep any of the others he as made?"

Gustav didn't get a chance to answer as the butler announced the arrival of the Marquis Erik Laroque and the Marchioness Christine Laroque.

There was a moment of trepidation as Christine rounded the corner, but she flew into her mothers arms and tears flowed fast and easy. Erik entered behind her with regal grace. His deep-set, perceptive eyes scanned the room and upon seeing that there were few people about, he allowed himself to relax.

He bowed toward Gustav and stated with drugging beauty, "Thank you for having us, Christine has been longing to see you."

He turned to Teresa, bowed, and drew her hand to his lips for a light kiss. "Madam, you have a lovely home."

Teresa found this man alarmingly charming and was impressed with his manners and quiet reserve.

"It is an honor to finally meet you, my lord." Teresa stated.

Erik smiled and the gesture filled his green gaze with sparks of light, "Please, call me Erik."

Christine hooked her arms around Erik's arm and wrapped her fingers through his. She smiled lovingly up at him as he kissed her forehead.

Neither Teresa nor Gustav missed the exchange, and Gustav finally had to clear his throat to get Christine's attention.

She went into her father's outstretched arms and hugged him tightly. Gustav held back the tears and smiled at the inner glow radiating from her.

"You look happy, my daughter."

Christine turned her eyes to Erik and tears filled them instantly, she turned back to her father and smiled, "I am Papa…I am very happy."

Erik missed the exchange because he was motioning toward the door for Kamilla to enter.

"This is our daughter from my first marriage, Lady Kamilla Juliet Laroque." Erik announced.

Kamilla entered the room and curtsied low and elegantly. Her curls danced about her shoulders and Teresa was immediately taken with the child.

"We also have a son from my first marriage, Lord Timotheus Philippe Laroque. He is sixteen months old and is recovering from a rather nasty cold – as we all have been doing over the last couple of weeks."

Erik went to stand beside Christine and drew into his embrace. He placed a kiss upon her upturned mouth and smiled down at her.

"We thought it best not to bring him."

Erik was fighting the unease in his stomach and doing his best not to feel like he was on display. Gustav's eyes scrutinized every move he made and Erik realized that he wanted to earn this man's respect and approval.

Gustav was trying to find some hint of ambiguous coldness in Erik; something that would indicate he was not the sincere man that he appeared to be; but there was nothing.

"Erik may I speak with you in my office please." Gustav asked, indicating the room adjacent to the one in which they stood.

"Certainly." Erik excused himself from the presence of the ladies and followed Gustav.

"How are Beth and that new husband of hers?" Teresa inquired, watching the men leave.

"They are both doing well, as is Giorgia." Christine stated.

ЖЖ

The door closed behind Erik and he watched Gustav go toward the bar and pour a drink.

"Would you care from some Brandy?"

Erik declined and took a seat in the leather chair across from Gustav's desk.

Gustav descended into the chair and warily eyed Erik from beneath a wrinkled brow.

"I never did thank you properly for taking them in…I could not help at the time, but you did wonders for them."

Erik cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, "It was my pleasure…Beth brought a smile to Christine's face and Giorgia befriended Kamilla – all is well."

"I am a man of few words and great convictions…" Gustav relayed, "…I don't like being indebted to anyone…especially you."

Erik sat up straight and his eyes grew dark, "It is I who am indebted to you, sir…the gift that you gave me in the person of your daughter has been the one source of light in my dark world."

Erik stood and walked over to the large window. The dark sky was dotted with bright stars and the silhouetted treetops waved in the night breeze; Erik had forgotten how much he loved the night and the silky black beauty that it possessed.

"Before her, I was a shell of a man existing in this world…life had held little beauty for me and even less love." He turned his body to face Gustav, leaning against the wall with his legs crossed and his hands clasped in front of him.

"In the last few months we have found a love for each other that I pray will be as strong and lasting as the love you share with your wife."

Gustav was speechless. He had been prepared to justly berate this young man for being an unworthy husband to his daughter; instead, he found that he was ready to embrace him as a son.

"I will do everything in my power to make and keep her happy."

Gustav finally stood and extended his hand toward Erik, offering his support and approval.

"From the glow she has about her and the radiant smile she wears, I'd say you have succeeded in doing that."

There was a light tap on the door as the two men shook hands.

"Come, you must be famished, my lord…" Teresa stated as she motioned for them to follow her.

Erik took Christine's hand and followed his newly acquired family down the hall toward the dining room.

The meal was hearty and hot and Erik couldn't remember hearing so much laughter around a dinner table; this was what a home should feel like.

'Thank you, Lord.' Gustav silently prayed as dinner ended and he showed Christine and Erik to their room.

Kamilla had been in bed for an hour already, Teresa having volunteered to tuck her in and read her a story.

"Tomorrow night is a ball in your honor, so brush up on those dancing steps."

Erik balked at the suggestion, but said nothing until he was alone with Christine, behind closed doors.

"I have never actually danced with a partner before." He admitted with unease.

Christine cuddled up to him and placed a kiss upon his lips, "With your musical instincts, you'll put everyone to shame, my love…I rather like the idea of being in your arms while the other women look on with envy."

"Envy…why would they be envious?" Erik asked, completely naive to her meaning.

She gave him a luminous smirk and her eyes smoldered, "Because I will be in the arms of the most handsome man there AND that man is a marquis AND, even more importantly, that man is my husband."

Erik shook his head and playfully scoffed at her words. He would never consider himself handsome, but as long as she did, that was all that mattered.

"Have I told you lately that I love you?" She cooed.

She was gently persuading him toward the bed and upon reaching the edge of it, she none to gently pushed him onto it.

"Don't get started without me, I must tend to something in the washroom….I'll return momentarily."

Erik watched her move into the washroom and close the door. He couldn't believe she was torturing him in such a manner. It had been over two weeks since they had made love. Timmy had been sick and then Kamilla – followed by just about everyone in the house, including Erik.

Erik had not been as affected as the others had been, but he had carried a slight fever, aches, and pains; now, his body was demanding other things and his luscious wife was busy behind a closed door…and it was driving him to the brink of insanity.

He removed himself from the bed and tapped lightly on the door.

"Christine, have you fallen in?" He teased. "Do I need to come in and fish you out?"

He heard a light giggle and felt its affects to the very tip of his toes.

"Are we slightly impatient?" She teased back.

"Come on, have mercy on me…it's been almost three weeks since I had the pleasure of making love to you." Erik pleaded, putting a seductive lilt in his already intoxicating voice.

He heard the door click and knew she was on her way out. He bounded from the door and landed on the bed, anxiously awaiting her companionship.

She looked radiant…as usual, but there was glow about her that Erik had never seen before; an inner glow that lit her entire being.

His body sprang to life with the anticipation of joining with hers. He stood up and raked his eyes over her curves, resting on the swell of her full breasts – which teased him above the lace of her chemise.

"You are so sexy…I can't get enough of just looking at you." He crooned standing up to wrap his arms around her.

Christine sauntered up to him and feathered her fingers up the taut, toned muscles of his abdomen; then teased the spattering of dark hair across his powerful chest.

A low, feral growl resounded in his chest and his eyes drifted shut at her erotic touch.

She teased his chest with her tongue and lips, making him tremble with need. His hands found the plump roundness of her derriere and grasped it firmly.

"Could we pretend that you are about to deflower me right under the watchful eye of my over protective father?" She purred as she ground her hips into his expanding groin. "Something about making love in my father's house is sooo…" She ran her tongue up the length of his neck and then whispered in his ear, "…naughty."

Erik groaned at the image in his head. When had she become such a temptress…a seducer gifted with the most enticing skills? She had never been this assertive before…he loved it!

She gently eased him back to the bed and he lay out before her hungry eyes. If God granted her another seventy years, Christine knew she would never see a man as beautiful of body as Erik…he was magnificent.

She slithered up his body and ran her hands over his hardness, making him whimper with pleasure and buck into her hand.

"Christine…you are being such a vixen tonight…"

He set up and found her warm, moist mouth. He kissed her so tenderly that tears crept down her cheeks; but his tenderness soon turned to heated passion.

His large hands found the plush swell of her breasts and he massaged the tight peaks through the material of her chemise. He didn't see nor feel the slight wince that Christine exerted at the pressure.

He lowered his mouth to one jutting button and circled it with his tongue. The sensation of his tongue and the feel of the gossamer silk chemise against her flesh was a powerful combination and she whimpered into his ear.

He began at her hips and folded the hem of her chemise into his hands; he slowly pulled it over her body and off, exposing her creamy, soft flesh to his eager eyes.

"I will never tire of touching you…you have completely conquered me with your love."

Erik's lulling words whispered softly in her ear caused ripples of desire to trickle through her.

"Erik, it seems like months since you touched me."

He eased her down to the mattress and stretched his long, lean frame over hers. His hands roamed over her breasts and he kneaded them with deft fingers.

She hissed at the contact and Erik's head jerked up; his eyes slammed into hers with an inquisitive, concerned gaze.

"Take me into your mouth, it will ease the soreness."

He frowned, but anxiously did as she instructed. Her hands wound into his thick hair, forcing his mouth against her more fully.

In the past few months, Erik had memorized Christine's curves; every soft inch of skin; every point that brought her the greatest pleasure…everything about her had been committed to memory.

She had never complained of soreness before, and he was immediately concerned.

He nuzzled her neck, kissing the pulse point and moving up toward her ear. Erik's fingers caressed the softness of her abdomen and Christine moved her hand to quiet his movements.

Her hand rested atop his, having settled just beneath her belly button.

"You can't feel him yet, my love…but your child is growing in my womb." Christine whispered; tears coming to her eyes as Erik went as still as stone.

His voice, soft and tear-filled, finally let her know he had heard her.

"You're pregnant?"

She smiled brightly and rested her palm against his blemished cheek.

Erik's hand began to gently massage the part of her body that housed his child. Tears were flowing freely as he kissed her with such tender acceptance and yearning.

His tongue skimmed the flesh of her lips and she opened to him, tasting the salty proof of his tears.

"Christine…"

He said nothing more as he put his lips to her abdomen and kissed the flesh. He rubbed his cheek against the softness and then kissed it again.

"When?" He finally asked, barely able to speak.

"The doctor said that I am about two months along; so, as best we can calculate, sometime in April."

Erik smiled so ethereally, catching Christine's breath with his eyes.

"Make love to me…." She begged, lighting a fire in his loins with the huskiness in her voice.

He gently placed his body between her long legs, laving his tongue over each perky tip of her breasts and gracing them with a slight suck, causing her to moan in sweet agony.

He moved down her body with this lips and tongue, not missing the swell of her abdomen.

He breathed in the musky scent of her arousal and then lowered his head to the moist curls of her womanly body.

Christine wound her fingers through his hair as he fed off her bounty. Her head moved back and forth in pure delight, feeling every sweep of his talented tongue and every subtle suck he bestowed upon her.

His long fingers entered her while his tongue danced over her heated center; her moans of pleasure were growing louder and louder and Erik smiled at the thought that her parents might know exactly what they were doing.

"Erik…stop this sweet madness and take me…." Christine pleaded. "I can bear it no more."

"Ah, but me thinks you can, fair maiden." Erik countered in a lustful, husky tone. "I shall have my way with you…"

He went down on her again and did not relent until she cried out with her release.

His body cried out for attention, yet he worried about his weight upon her. He placed his body beside her and kissed her tenderly.

"Erik…" Christine pleased, "…as wonderful as that felt…I need you inside me."

Erik pushed the damp her from her forehead. "I don't want to hurt you – or our baby."

His tone was so compassionate and so self-sacrificing that Christine felt tears spring into her eyes.

"You aren't going to hurt either one of us…it's perfectly natural."

Erik frowned at her, but she could feel his straining erection against her leg; she applied a subtle pressure against him that indicated her readiness.

He groaned and his eyes lids closed as the delightful waves of desire rolled through him.

"How do you know this?" He moaned.

Christine pulled his mouth to hers and ferociously fenced her tongue against his in a fiery kiss.

"I know because I asked the doctor."

His eyes grew dark with intense need and his low, sultry voice demanded, "Turn over, onto your stomach."

"Erik?" She asked with a hint of excited apprehension.

"Trust me." He whispered.

She placed her stomach against the soft quilt and felt Erik's hands pull at her hips, lifting her toward him.

He leaned over her back, guided his bulging staff into her still throbbing center with one hand, and with the other, he gently caressed the swollen nub at the core of her womanhood.

Christine felt every inch of him enter her and she could not remember a time when he felt so large and satisfying. Erik was well endowed in that area as it was…she hadn't thought there was a way for him to feel any larger – she had been mistaken.

His hips gently caressed hers at first, moving into her with slow, easy strokes, but as the passion between them grew, Christine bucked against him with fevered force and Erik met her thrusts in harmony.

Christine could feel her second climax approaching and Erik could feel the constricting pleasure of her muscles against him. He closed his eyes in sheer ecstasy as his release washed over him with such strong force. Christine rode the force with him and they both arrived together.

Erik lowered himself to the bed and pulled Christine into his embrace. Her hips rested against him and Erik pulled her hair back from her neck and placed a kiss just below her ear.

"Consider yourself deflowered, my sweet." Erik teased.

She smiled and pushed further into his warm embrace. Her eyes were closed and sleep descended quickly.

"You wicked, decadent man…we'll have to do this again sometime…" She sighed contentedly, "…soon."

Erik slept and the smile never left his face. His dreams that night were of tiny hands, a baby's laugh, and a mother's warm voice; he was home.

TBC


	28. Chapter 28

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from " Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand – Oded Fehr – (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) Thanks Mlle.Fox!

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**You make me smile - all of you!**

CHAPTER 28

Breakfast was an interesting experience for everyone involved. Christine was certain that her parents had heard the activity coming from her old room, but she was not at all embarrassed about it.

Her suspicions were confirmed when her father wouldn't make eye contact and her mother blushed profusely every time her eyes landed on Erik.

Her father was avoiding everyone by lifting the morning paper high enough to shield his face from everyone's vision. He could be seen lifting his coffee cup up and down, but that was all.

His voice suddenly broke the awkward silence, and Christine could hear the barely contained mirth lying under the surface of his business-like tone.

"Did you sleep well…in your old bed?"

Christine bit her bottom lip and tried not to grin; but her eyes locked with Erik's and they both smirked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, we did…once we both actually fell asleep."

Gustav gulped too much coffee and he began to cough and sputter. Teresa rushed to his side and gave him a healthy wallop on the back.

"There, there, dear…try not to take such a large swallow next time."

Teresa's tone was dripping with amusement, but she tried to keep her eyes centered on her husband's chagrined features.

"Christine has something she would like to share with you both." Erik announced. "Don't you, dear."

Teresa and Gustav both looked at her with inquisitive faces and Christine smiled at them with all the joy she had in her heart.

"I'm going to have a baby."

Teresa's hand went to her mouth as a gleeful screech escaped. Tears flowed immediately and she ran to her daughter's side.

Christine accepted her mothers embrace and they both shed a few tears before Teresa looked at Erik and smiled.

"You are a man of your word, my lord…I have never seen my daughter more happy or healthy."

She stood and embraced him with the arms of a mother. Erik was shocked, but did not stiffen in her arms. He returned the hug and felt the swell of emotion in his chest.

"Please, Madam Delancy, call me Erik."

She pulled back and put her hand to his cheek, "Then I must insist you call me Mother."

And with those words, his heart skipped a beat.

ЖЖ

Erik had bought Christine a new dress for the ball. It had a sweeping neckline for which he bought a new pearl necklace; bell-shaped sleeves draped down to hug her wrists, and an asymmetrical waistline accented her height and hourglass figure.

His naturally artistic eye had deduced that she would look magnificent in deep wine with cream-colored accents. The dress was the most beautiful piece of clothing Christine had ever owned.

"You look like a queen, my bride." Erik whispered as they entered the foyer of the ballroom.

"You make me feel like one..." She whispered back, "…as you are my king."

Erik handed the attendant their announcement and hooked his arm around Christine's waist.

Upon reading their names, the attendant's face lit up with a huge smile and he rang the bell.

"The Marquis and Marchioness of Merlot, Erik and Christine Laroque."

There was applause all around them and the ladies went to whispers as all eyes focused on the couple they had been waiting on.

"Relax love…" Christine purred, "…we don't have to stay that long."

Christine had felt, more than seen, Erik stiffen when he saw the number of people that were in attendance. She grasped his hand and made sure he felt her strength.

Christine took the time to look around the picturesque room and admire the murals and tapestries that graced the walls. Many of them dated back hundreds of years and each piece had a place in history.

There was a white grand piano in the far corner near the ornate fireplace. The whole room dripped with Victorian beauty and appeal.

The ceiling was vaulted and a mural of the Garden of Eden adorned it…each stroke was meticulously placed and the depiction was breathtaking.

Erik had noticed it also, and they both stood staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before proceeding onto the dance floor.

Erik moved as though he was on air; graceful and elegant. His tall frame was a head above just about every other man in the room, so the women had no problem finding him.

His eyes, however, never left Christine. They moved together like the tones of a cord – in perfect harmony.

"Where did you learn to dance?" Christine asked after he showed his skills with the Foxtrot.

"Here and there…" He teased.

"Here and there…where?" Her eyes were twinkling with mischief and she allowed a hint of jealousy to enter her tone.

" Persia mostly…one can learn a great deal by observing the acts of others…" Erik expounded.

"Indeed." Christine admitted with a smirk. "So, you've never held another woman in your arms?"

Erik swept her into an elegant dip, leaving his head to rest in the crook of her neck above the sweep of her breasts.

"Not unless you count Kamilla." He whispered against her prickled flesh.

Christine chuckled low and wound her fingers through his hair. He lifted her to his hard body; several inches off the floor; then he let her slide provocatively down the heated length of him.

The song ended and he kissed her briefly but passionately; letting every man in the room know that she belonged to him.

Gustav attracted Erik's attention and he excused himself from Christine to go to his father-in-law's side.

There were so many people at the ball; many of them Christine had known since she was a little girl.

Gaelynn Vancier was one such person. She and Christine had been best friends for many years, until Gaelynn had married a baron from Spain two years ago and had moved away.

They had not seen each other since and Christine was anxious to hear about how her life had been. However, the woman in front of her bore only a slight resemblance to the vivacious woman Christine remembered.

"Gaelynn, are you well?" Christine asked, stunned by how frail her friend appeared to be.

"Christine, I've been pregnant three times in the last two years, and each time it has ended in tragedy."

Gaelynn was distraught and Christine had no idea how to console her, other than to wrap the woman in her arms.

"Gaelynn…you must allow your body to recuperate before you try again…you have lost so much weight."

"It's Eduardo; he wants an heir so badly…I fear he has already taken a mistress."

The thin woman collapsed in Christine's arms just as Erik was approaching. He raced to her side and caught her small body in his strong arms.

"She needs to lie down." He stated, quietly.

Christine led them out of the main ballroom and into one of the side parlors.

"Oh Erik, I am so worried about her…she's my best friend."

"Stay here, I will be back."

He left and was back instantly with a cool cloth for her forehead.

"She does not look well."

Erik examined the pallor of her flesh and the dark circles under her eyes. She was a beautiful woman, but her health was poor.

He noticed the ring on her finger and immediately stood to go.

"Where is this woman's husband?"

Christine swept her hand across her friend's forehead and smiled weakly.

"That man is the problem Erik… her husband is Baron Eduardo Castillo of Spain." Christine lifted weepy eyes to Erik, "She has miscarried three babies in two years and he continues to expect her to conceive."

Erik was aghast at what Christine was saying. The poor creature that rested on the chaise was barely able to maintain her own health, let alone that of a fetus.

"Does he wish her dead?"

All Christine could do, was nod and shrug her shoulders.

"She fears he's already taken a mistress, Erik….how _could_ he?"

Erik swallowed the rage boiling just beneath the civilized, dignified surface. His brow arched and he sighed in disgust, "I am seldom impressed with my own gender…or class."

Gaelynn awoke to the most beautiful voice she had ever heard. Her eyes were still trying to focus when she heard Christine.

"Erik, what can we do…she's so dear to me?"

"You can do nothing…I must do what is expected of me…"

Gaelynn's voice was weak and contrite; and Christine smiled down at her friend.

"Gaelynn Castillo, I'd like for you to meet my husband, Marquis Erik Rameau Laroque; Erik, my best friend for over twenty years, Baroness Gaelynn Donette Fontaigne Castillo."

Erik bent low and drew her hand to his lips, "Enchanted, Madam."

She shivered again, the intoxicating beauty of his voice sweeping through her.

"Christine, he is absolutely divine." Gaelynn stated, her pale, thin lips turning up into a weak smile.

Christine's smile was effervescent and she could not help the pride that swelled within her, "Thank you Gaelynn, I know that he is…now if I could just convince him."

Erik caught her wink and smiled brightly.

"My dear, I have not had the honor of a waltz tonight, we have done every dance but that one…would you care to join me?"

Christine was torn between enjoying the feel of her husband's hard body against hers as he waltzed with her; or her friend who seemed in such need.

"Go Christine, enjoy the evening, I'll just rest here."

Erik squatted down beside the chaise lounger and once again kissed Gaelynn's hand, "Rest assured, Madam, your husband will be along shortly to tend to you."

Gaelynn scoffed lightly and smiled back at Erik, "He cares not."

Erik's green eyes shone with such earnest, that Gaelynn found herself feeling very much at ease; then he took her breath away by smiling.

"He will." Erik quietly promised.

ЖЖ

It only took a few minutes for Erik to find the man he was looking for. He was loud and boisterous, and drew attention to himself.

He was surrounded by a hoard of females; Erik gritted his teeth and fought the urge to throttle the man senseless.

It wasn't long after Erik commanded the man's attention's, that he came walking back toward Christine with a satisfied smile on his face.

She was anxious to spend some time in Erik's arms, as the whole ordeal with Gaelynn had left a very sour taste in her mouth.

"What have you done?" Christine asked with a smile on her face.

"You need not look so concerned, my love…it was nothing."

"I'm not concerned, dear heart, I'm curious."

Her eyes sparkled with the same mischievous glow that his did, and Erik knew she would not allow him to rest until he told her.

"Later…when fewer ears are listening and fewer eyes are watching."

Christine was once again whirled onto the dance floor; all eyes watched the tall, elegant Marquis and the equally elegant Marchioness show everyone else how the waltz was meant to be danced.

TBC


	29. Chapter 29

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from " Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand – Oded Fehr – (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) Thanks Mlle.Fox!

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

CHAPTER 29

Erik and Christine were both exhausted from the dancing and the socializing, so they summoned a cab and left the ball early.

Gustav and Teresa made apologies for them, but also took the time to announce the imminent arrival of another grandchild.

"We have four beautiful granddaughter's, and this child is due in April…I am praying for a grandson."

Those who were told were pleased and excited and Gustav only had to answer a few stray and offensive questions about Erik's mask and his background.

Overall, people were receptive and accepting of him; and Gustav was most thankful; he didn't think Erik would make another effort to come back if he felt like an outcast.

The conversation lulled and the subject of his family came up, and Gustav was always ready to talk about his daughters and granddaughters.

Gustav already felt as though he had lost Abby, she had married the son of the wealthiest merchant in the region and she and the girls went with him everywhere.

He highly objected to that way of life for his daughter and grandchildren, but they had happily chosen it. He saw them once every two years or so.

Bethany had recently remarried and she, her new husband, and Giorgia were to come and visit at Christmas; but he missed Abby terribly.

Her triplet daughters, Alicia, Ariana, and Aldonia, were the epitome of spoiled, but he loved them so much. It had been almost two years since he had last seen them – they had just turned two before they left…now they were about to turn four.

No, he was not going to allow anything to be said or done that would offend Erik in any way; he would not have another daughter and grandchild taken away from him.

ЖЖ

"It's called suggestive hypnotism or hypnotic suggestion. I perfected the skill in Persia many, many years ago."

Erik was lying beside Christine on the bed. They had arrived at the estate and immediately readied for bed.

"Who taught you to use it?" Christine asked.

"Before the Khanum came into power and took advantage of my skills, her father was the Khan. He was under the mistaken impression that because I was so hideous of form, I had no ability to reason or think on my own."

Erik laughed awkwardly at the memory of other people talking slower around him thinking he could not understand them. They assumed that because he was deformed, he also lacked mental capacity.

"I observed the one whose skills were unsurpassed. He was an extraordinary person whose usefulness became obsolete once it was discovered that he was using his skills to manipulate the Khan.

"It was by watching him that I learned the skill on my own. I tried to use it against the Khanum, but she was not able to be hypnotized. I was forbidden to look into her eyes from that point on - she never fully trusted me."

Christine was intrigued by this particular skill. It was like nothing she had ever heard of. Hypnotism was still a new discovery and completely non-researched; but she had seen how it had worked on the baron and she was once again in awe of this man she called "husband".

"So, you just made suggestions to him while staring him into a state of hypnotic sleep?"

"More or less." Erik stated. "I altered his minds perception of certain things and certain people in his life."

"Like the way he treats Gaelynn."

Erik nodded and smiled. He had not gotten the chance to use that skill for many years. It was an invasive procedure and it required a complete disregard for the other person's privacy.

His father's lack of conscience had made him impervious to its influence and to any other mind-altering attempts.

"Thank you…thank you for being the incredible man that you are."

Christine cuddled up to Erik's chest and listened to the slow, melodious beat of his heart.

"Anything I now am or ever hope to be…is because of you." He murmured.

His words made her heart sing and as sleep crept in, Christine reflected on how happy and fulfilling her life was and thanked God for His enduring mercy.

ЖЖ

A couple of weeks after they got home, Erik received a wire from the monastery. Kaveh's concerned scowl was all it took for Erik to assume the worst as he unfolded the paper.

Christine and Beth stood in the background, all too aware of what the contents could entail.

Erik scanned the written contents and finally lifted plaintive eyes to his wife.

"It seems that there has been an accident…" Erik's voice was low and controlled, but there was an unknown quality in its beauty. "…Pascal is dead."

Christine's sharp intake of breath was all that was heard.

"There was another break-out attempt. He and his men fell down the side of a particularly tall and dangerous mountain…."

Erik didn't know what to feel. He walked past everyone and headed into the sitting room. The late afternoon sun was setting in the sky and an array of color was painted on its canvas.

He stared out over the vast parcels of land that had belonged to his family for centuries, and felt an overwhelming sense of sadness and loss.

Christine sat down beside him, and was relieved when his hand took hers. They sat there for a few minutes, mesmerized by the wonder of God's painted sky.

"I suppose a part of me always hoped he would repent and become a good man…" Erik finally stated. "…I wanted him to love me and be happy for me."

His head fell forward and his shoulders trembled. Christine did not say anything, but took his head in her arms and lowered it to her lap. She tenderly ran her fingers through the soft strands of his dark hair and hummed quietly.

He never made a sound, but Christine knew he was weeping for the chances his father had scorned by being the kind of person that he was.

"Erik…you are so blessed to have three men in your life who all think of you as a son." She watched his eyes close, but there was a slight crease on his forehead, "…Sergei, James, and my papa."

Erik's head lifted up and his black brow arched at her, "Your father?"

She smiled and placed her palm to his smooth cheek, "Yes, Erik…he told me so himself."

She continued to smile at him and then leaned in for a soft kiss, "The best parents aren't always the ones we are born with….being a parent is an honor…a gift from God."

Erik gave her a broken smile as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"Sometimes…He plants us in a borrowed garden…nurtures us and forms us as He sees fit…then, when the time is right, He uproots us and puts us in the garden He intended for us…" She knew he understood her analogy and she could see the tears sparkling in his eyes.

"…your life…with all its pain and strife…." She lifted his trembling chin and looked deep into his fathomless eyes, "…has brought you to this point in time…this moment…" she smiled through her own tears, "…don't let the ghosts of your past or the sins of your ancestors cause you to think less of yourself."

She kissed him again, stood, and headed out the door to let Erik search his heart for what he knew to be the truth.

Christine turned toward him one last time and strengthened him with her next phrase.

"If you want to see and know what a father should be, look in the mirror."

Erik felt his heart leap at her words and he gave her an appreciative smile. She smiled back and quietly left the room.

TBC


	30. Chapter 30

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from " Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand – Oded Fehr – (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) Thanks Mlle.Fox!

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**We are coming to the end; one more chapter to go. The final chapter will sum it all up for you.**

**Thank you for reading and my next story is in the making. It will be set in present day New York. It will also introduce a different sort of artistic interest for Erik. It will be an Erik/Christine.**

CHAPTER 30

"Erik, stop fidgeting and just wear the suit…you look stunning."

Christine could not believe how nervous Erik was about this evening. He acted as though he had never been out in public before.

"I look like a strutting peacock."

His tone was dripping with embarrassment. Christine had purchased a forest green, formal suit for him, but he was finding it difficult to part with years of conditioning. He always wore black – had worn black for years – why did she think he would look good in forest green?

"I don't need any help being humiliated, dearest, I think I can handle that on my own…they stare unabashedly at me anyway – why give them something else to stare at?"

Christine crossed her arms across her chest, resting them on her slightly extended abdomen.

"Will you stop…please…" She almost laughed when his head bowed in defeat.

"Christine…what if…"

"Erik, they'll love your opera and they'll love you." She caressed his cheek and smiled into this beseeching eyes.

Erik felt sick to his stomach, his palms were sweating, he had a throbbing headache, his knees were about to buckle, and his throat was parched.

"Are your parents going to be there?" He asked, almost as an afterthought.

Christine nodded.

"How about Sergei…I know it's a long trip for him…"

"Yes, he will be there…stop worrying." She tried to hide the smile that was playing about her lips; he seemed so disturbed.

Erik ran his hand through his hair, proceeding to tousle the dark strands and making Christine shake her head in frustration.

"Stop…" she put her hands to his chest. "…sit…" she tugged on his shoulders, forcing him to sit in the chair they were closest to.

He sat down and allowed her to straighten his hair and chastise him with her dark eyes and motherly tone.

He started to ask another question…

"Erik…they are all going to be there, my love…Kaveh, Beth, Giorgia, your grandmother, Mama and Papa, Kamilla, Timmy, Sergei…and me." She finished with his hair and tie and allowed him to stand, "Please stop worrying...it will all be fine."

He hugged her fiercely and willed his doubts and worries to cease as her arms encircled him.

Christine took his hand and literally pulled him from the room.

ЖЖ

The night of the opening gala at the Opera Populaire had arrived. Erik's opera was opening to rave reviews, the press was everywhere, and everyone involved knew he had a masterpiece on his hands.

"My Beloved Immortal" was the first opera ever written with a vampire as the dark hero. Erik had not known the allure of the vampire until he began writing the opera and doing the research; they were fascinating creatures; he was certain that if they did exist, he would have fit in with them...quite easily.

Christine had become his inspiration throughout the project, and now he just hoped that the actors that had been cast in the leading roles would do his characters justice.

For the first time in the history of his composing, Erik attended opening night and sat in the front row. On the outside, he appeared calm and collected, but Erik was pushing down the nervous nausea that was threatening to send him spiriting from the auditorium in a cold sweat.

And the worst was yet to come.

The lamps were turned down and the manager of the opera house walked onto the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is a great honor to have each and every one of you here tonight. Our production is an original opera written and composed by Marquis Erik Laroque. He has formally written under the name of M.E. Fantôme…"

The audience went ballistic with applause. M.E. Fantôme was the most renowned composer in all of Europe and few had ever had the opportunity of seeing him, let alone meeting him.

"His timeless compositions and visionary operas have changed the face of modern theater and have forged a path that will open new and exciting possibilities for all performers."

Again, the room exploded in applause. The manager bowed and quieted the audience with a sweep of his hand.

"Now, without further ado, I give you the Marquis Erik Laroque."

He caught Christine's surpised look out of the corner of his eye and knew that if he looked at her, he would lose his nerve. He stood up, straightened his coat, and walked up to the stage.

The applause was thunderous and he could not believe that it was all for him. He took several bows and allowed the noise to subside before trying to speak.

Erik had recently allowed an interview with the press; so all of Paris, a great deal of France, and most of Europe knew he wore a mask and had suffered greatly because of it.

"Thank you for that warm welcome." He looked regal and beautiful and everyone in the theater was mesmerized by his enigmatic looks and appeal.

"Tonight would not have been possible if it were not for the constant support of my family." He indicated for everyone to stand. "Duke Sergei Beauvais, who has been like a father to me; Kaveh Hushmand and his lovely wife, Beth - and their daughter, Giorgia; my father and mother-in-law, Gustav and Teresa Delancy; my grandmother, Manuela Covaciu; my daughter, Lady Kamilla Laroque; my son, Lord Timotheus Laroque; and finally, the most important person in my life and the light that shines in my heart - my wife, the Marchioness Christine Laroque."

The theater was alive with applause and Erik was all smiles as his family took their bows and his wife cried tears of absolute joy.

"And now, I give you, 'My Beloved Immortal'."

**_Synopsis _**

MY BELOVED IMMORTAL

By Erik Laroque, Marquis of Merlot

_Adrian_

To the outside world, Lord Adrian Montague had it all; looks, riches, prestige – women loved him and men admired him. However, he had a dark and dangerous secret; he was over 700 years old.

_Vampire _

Adrian had survived longer than many immortals – even Keitel – the first vampire. In the centuries that he had walked the earth, Adrian had known and seen many things – but one thing had eluded him all the years of his dark, lonely existence - the one thing that all living beings longed for…love.

_Lillith _

She was the forbidden fruit - a human maiden of rare and pure beauty.

Despite their different worlds – or perhaps because of them…they fell in love. Prohibited by worlds to wed, Adrian and Lillith defied their worlds to be together.

She accepted him, in spite of what he was – a monster.

_Council of Elders _

Vampires rarely, if ever, loved…and loving a human was not allowed.

The elders summoned Adrian and demanded that he kill her – Adrian refused.

_Judgment _

As punishment for his insolence, Adrian's soul is returned to him and with it, the conscience that will not allow him to exist as what he is. For the crime of loving a vampire, Lillith is sold as a slave to the vampires and Adrian is forced to watch her be dehumanized by the most cruel and evil of all vampires…Rafael.

_War _

Adrian, many vampires, and even humans, wage war against

Rafael and his brood of evil vampires.

In the end, Adrian and his army are victorious

- but Lillith is mortally wounded.

_Right or wrong _

Should he defy the very laws that govern his kind, as well as the moral laws that govern the world, and

turn Lillith into his beloved immortal before her heart stops beating?

Would Lillith wish for the gift he offers?

ЖЖ

He had never heard such applause for any opera, and his eyes filled with tears. It seemed the world was ready for his music and for him.

"You were right, Christine…I will never doubt you again." Erik stated, above the roar of the audience.

She leaned in to him, enjoying the beautiful smile that was etched on his handsome face.

"I will remember that." She stated back with an impish smirk.

Erik laughed and pulled her to him for a long, luscious, toe-curling kiss.

TBC


	31. Chapter 31

ALL I KNOW OF LOVE

Erik and Christine are the creation of Gaston Leroux; the reference to Persia and some of its customs are derived from Susan Kay's book, "Phantom". All other characters and the backdrop of the story are the creations and property of GerrysJackie.

Some places and all names are fictional.

PLAYERS:

Erik – Gerard Butler - Perfect

Christine – The face and coloring of Zooey Deschanel (Failure to Launch, Elf) – and the body of Marilyn Monroe, except 3 inches taller

Gustav - Billy Connelly – Because I really like him.

Patrick Connelly - Paul Bettany – (A Knights Tale, Firewall, A Beautiful Mind)

Pascal – Mel Gibson's looks (slightly older with graying hair) with the cunning and cruelty of J.R. Ewing from " Dallas".

Madam Marie Forsythe – Miranda Richardson

James Lumpkin (the butler) – Daniel Davis (the butler from the TV show "The Nanny")

Kamilla – Georgie Henley (Chronicles of Narnia)

Duke Sergei Beauvais – Derek Jacobi (Underworld:Evolution)

Kaveh Hushmand – Oded Fehr – (The Mummy, The Mummy Returns) Thanks Mlle.Fox!

Use your imagination on all others.

_This story has taken a while to develop, but I hope it has been worth it. I have several chapters already written, but I am taking my time. There is humor, drama, and romance in this story, so I hope you will enjoy it._

_This rendition of Erik is one of a man who has suffered greatly in his life, at the hands of just about everyone in his life, but his spirit is still intact. He is less self-loathing than others that I have written, but he is very much aware of his self-proclaimed faults. He is dangerous and ruthless, but has had enough of death and destruction. Women are still a mystery to him, and he needs a strong, independent woman who is his equal in every way._

_This Christine is not a drop-dead gorgeous woman, but her beauty is less assuming and soft…Erik will see it._

_I will try to update twice a week, depending on how quickly I write chapters. I don't anticipate this being a particularly long story, but we'll see._

_Enjoy._

* * *

**Here it is. Thank you for all the wonderful and encouraging words. I have been asked by my beta to consider writing another Erik/OC story - so I am considering that, also. I've never tried writing two stories at a time - I am not sure I have the brain power for such things!!**

**But, Mlle.Fox is my friend, she keeps me focused, and she tries to make me a better writer...I will do my best, my friend.**

CHAPTER 31

_Epilogue _

Several months after the opening success of "My Beloved Immortal", Erik and Christine were awaiting the arrival of their firstborn child.

Christine had insisted they attend mass for Easter celebration and attend the spring picnic the church was having afterwards.

Erik had not been much of a church attendee until Christine came into this life, but she had made him see the hand of God in every aspect of his life.

This morning, however, a curious young man approached Erik, and asked endless questions about his mask and his horrible time in Persia.

After trying to remain open minded and not wanting to appear rude, Erik had locked up and disassociated himself from the entire congregation for the rest of the day.

Christine was inwardly cringing at the audacity of the young man. Why couldn't he have left them alone?

She wearily approached him.

He stood with his back to her; his broad, obdurate shoulders stretched the material of his coat to the breaking point because of his arms being folded across his chest.

She quietly sighed and went to his side, noticing that he stared into the horizon at no particular spot.

"Erik, stop sulking and come and sit with us." Christine insisted.

He scowled at her from beneath his long lashes, "I'm perfectly happy where I am."

"Kamilla is asking for you."

He turned and waved to his daughter, making a broad, bright smile appear on her face.

"I'll be over in a few minutes." He stated, turning back to Christine, and then back to the horizon.

She gave him a humorous scowl and headed back to the table where everyone was sitting.

She had been hesitant to leave home as her pregnancy had become obvious to everyone, but Erik refused to go anywhere without her being by his side. So, she broke tradition and accompanied him.

Christine turned toward Manuela and rolled her eyes, "You'd think he was the one having the baby - with all the moodiness."

Manuela chuckled, "He is just like his mother."

"He needs to sit down and eat or he'll miss out on all this wonderful food." Christine huffed.

Manuela shrugged her thin shoulders, "He must get used to being questioned, he's a star in his own right – with the successful operas and such; people are just curious."

"Erik…"

As Christine stood up to address him once again, she grasped her abdomen , released a loud scream, and her water broke. Erik was by her side in a flash and she was in his arms.

"It's time." Christine whispered. "Get me home."

Erik looked over at Kaveh, "Get the doctor and meet me back at the manor."

Erik carried her over to the carriage and placed her inside.

Manuela had moved to stand beside him, "I will come with you; she may need me."

He nodded and lifted her into the carriage.

"To Vassadelle."

ЖЖ

Hours. That was what it felt like. Quiet moans and an occasional scream could be heard from the other side of the door. She had been in there for hours and Erik was about to pull all of his hair out from worry.

"Is this what it's always like?" Erik asked Sergei, who paced beside him, step for step.

Sergei patted him on the back in a fatherly fashion and just nodded his head.

"I wasn't around the manor when Nicole had Kamilla or Timmy…besides – that was different…I did this to Christine…."

"Erik, stop beating yourself up, it has been like this since Adam and Eve…it's perfectly natural."

Erik paced some more and then stopped when Teresa and Gustav walked through the door.

Teresa immediately went to Erik and engulfed him in a giant hug.

"It's going to be alright dear; stop worrying…it took me two days to give birth to Christine…" Erik almost passed out at the thought of that, "…the others were considerably easier."

"How did you know to come?" Erik asked.

"We got a wire from Beth a couple of days ago saying that she could tell that Christine was getting close…we left immediately."

Erik couldn't help the tears of relief that ran down his cheek, "I'm so glad you're here."

She disappeared up the stairs, leaving Gustav to try to calm his son-in-law.

"Erik, I understand what you're going through…"

"Why do they let us even touch them….can you tell me that?" Erik asked of every man present. "Surely this cannot be an enjoyable experience."

"Erik, all is forgotten when that baby is placed at their breast…Teresa said there is nothing like it."

Every man present said the same thing.

A part of Erik was terrified for Christine's life; after all, Nicole had died giving birth to Timmy…what if….

"Don't think it, Erik…I can read that look in your eyes…"

Kaveh looked sternly into his eyes and made him understand that just because it happened to Nicole did not necessarily mean it would happen to Christine.

All pacing ceased when a loud wale was heard from the upstairs room.

Erik bounded the stairs three at a time and crashed through the door in time to see the baby being cleaned and placed in a blanket.

His first thoughts were for Christine and he rushed to her side.

"Are you alright?"

She looked exhausted, but more beautiful than she had ever looked. Erik swiped his hand gently across her damp forehead, moving the hair to the side. Her eyes, although tired and weary, were bright with the love of a mother.

She smiled and caressed his expectant face. "I'm fine, my love."

He allowed himself to feel relieved, forcibly willed his pounding heart to slow down, and his hands to stop shaking.

"Congratulations my lord, you have a son."

The midwife placed the small bundle in Erik's large arms. His eyes landed on the tiny face hidden beneath the soft down of the blanket and his throat tightened up from the swell of love he felt.

"He's so beautiful." Erik stated with awe. "How could he come from me…"

Erik's eyes moved to the woman who rested beside him and he finally allowed himself to weep with joy.

"Because you're beautiful, Erik…don't ever doubt it."

The infant began crying, loudly, and Erik placed him in the waiting arms of his mother, who immediately pulled him to her breast.

The quiet sucking sounds that his nursing made pulled Erik's heartstrings even more; and he was overwhelmed with the reality of what had just happened; he had helped create a new life – he who had felt dead for the greater part of his life.

"What shall we name him?" Christine whispered; the same awe was in her voice that was in Erik's voice.

"Enrique…" Erik murmured. "…he was my great-great-great grandfather, and the only one worthy of a legacy."

Christine nodded and pushed the dark curls from her sons face, "Enrique…you are the most beautiful baby I have ever seen…" She smiled up at her husband, "…except your father…I'm told he was turning heads even as an infant."

Gustav and Teresa quietly walked into the room.

"Meet your new grandson, Enrique Pieter Laroque…" Christine announced.

Teresa cried and rushed over to mother and child, all Gustav could manage was a wide grin and moist eyes.

Erik reached over and lifted a tiny hand, feeling the softness of his son's skin against his. The tiny hand wrapped around Erik's long, graceful finger and Erik knew that he had lost his heart…again.

ЖЖ

"My Beloved Immortal" ran for several years to capacity crowds. No modern opera had ever had that much success.

Several years later, the success of Erik Laroque and his dark hero opera, as well as many of the other productions he composed, made its way across the sea to America, where a newly developed and vastly expanding area called Broadway was becoming the next hot spot.

The Marquis and Marchioness of Merlot eventually moved to the states, dropped their titles and designed and built some of the most elaborate theaters on Broadway.

Erik continued to compose and write operas; he was recognized and celebrated as one of the top composers and writers of his time. His music and productions are still highly popular now, over a century later.

Erik and Christine Laroque were blessed with a daughter, Venus Isadora Laroque, six years after the birth of Enrique. Erik had never thought to have his heart stolen again, but the black haired, blue-eyed daughter he held in his arms, owned him – and he wasn't complaining.

The End


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